I am sitting in a harmoniously arranged living-dining area. The three main pieces of furnishing are a glass top long wooden table, six rattan chairs and two long sofas of off-white fabric and beige leather.
On one side, there was a square, good quality mirror with a line of knick-knacks along the lower edge. A vase of bare branch hung with Chinese New Year paper decorations on the left of the mirror. Next to the vase are two metallic shelves of plants in interesting receptacles. On the right of the mirror is a Yamaha piano and right in the corner of a two level stairs is a triangular old wooden whatnot displaying photos and sparking glasses. On blank pieces of walls we see an abstract picture and an old black and white framed travel itinerary in French.
I can't even begin to describe the restfulness of this 17x25 feet high ceiling room. Yet I know for a fact that most of these items came from various friends and acquaintances as well as sourced from discarded furniture from ex-pats moving out of their apartments. My hostess was a real estate agent before she returned to tertiary education in her early fifties. As a foreign student I have visited 14 families in the United States ranging from graduate students struggling to make ends meet to very wealthy families. Yet I must say that not in old money nor new wealth have I seen a place so well appointed yet it is homey and comfortable. Of course I have been to my boss' parents home in Houston which would have netted a 4-star rating. And I have been to two rustic country homes in Texas of millionaires, one from oil and the other from beer. Although those two places were something to talk about and admire, compared to the room I just described, they paled in terms of the sense of ease, peace and ambience.
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