...And it looks like all my dreams.

When I was a kid we had a book called The Big Orange Splot by D. Manus Pinkwater.  

It's about a man named Mr. Plumbean, who lives on a very "Neat Street" where all the houses look the same. One day, "(no one knows why)" a seagull carrying a can of orange paint flies over and drops the paint right onto the roof of Mr. Plumbean's house, leaving a big orange splot. (Picture this image, please)

The neighbors are upset by the blemish, which totally ruins "the look" of their street, and ask Mr. Plumbean to please paint his house to get rid of the splot. Plumbean, however, decides that he rather likes the splot, and what is more, decides to add to the theme. 

He paints his house in wild colors and patterns, and starts adding exotic plants to his lawn. The neighbors are horrified, but when they storm over to demand what he is thinking, Mr. Plumbean replies, "My house is me and I am it. My house is where I like to be, and it looks like all my dreams." He begins to discuss dreams with the neighbors one by one over tall glasses of lemonade, and pretty soon, every house on the street has sprouted new and unique paint jobs and additions, including a moat, a pet crocodile, and battlements.

The one on the left is a mobile home.

It's pretty fantastic. Even though we no longer have the book and I haven't read it in years, I can still quote from it (as evidenced by the quotes above, I didn't look those up). In fact, I see that one can buy it used for less than two bucks on Amazon...Hmm.


ANYWAY. Back to what we were talking about. Which was? Oh yes, that awesome quote.


"My house is me and I am it. My house is where I like to be, and it looks like all my dreams."

Something about that really resounds with me, for some reason. Maybe because it's such a simple statement. It sounds true. And I like the idea that home is (and should be) a place where you feel like you can be yourself, entirely and without hesitation. And it should be a place where you can unleash your inner creative being and let it splash orange and green paint on the walls, dig a moat in your lawn, and string a hammock between palm trees in the garden while you sip lemonade. 


Maybe it's my upbringing talking here, but those developments where every house has the same shape and is the same shade of beige just depress me. They are too perfect, to the point of looking completely un-lived in. It seems like people become too worried about their house fitting in with everyone else's*, and not concerned enough with making their house into a home where they, themselves, can feel alive. At least, not from the outside. (The insides I have theories on, too. But they can wait.)


And really, it goes for anything in life. It should look like all our dreams, because our dreams are crazy and wild and don't care at all about what the neighbors might say. What's the good of living if I do it for somebody else? I want to be who I am, wear what I want, not worry about what is "expected." Life can be so much fun, and it's so much easier to see that if I'm not tied up in knots over what other people might think of me. There are people in this world, lots of them, who will appreciate the person I am when I let go and just BE. 

There's nothing wrong with saying yes to that big orange splot on the roof and, instead of covering it up, making it a part of something new and exciting. It doesn't have to be a blemish. It could be a starting point instead. 

Hint: The crocodile is integral to any dream home.

 


 *And yes, I realize that these developments are built on a plan by developers, not by the choice of the occupants, and that said communities often actually have regulations regarding the colors one is allowed to paint one's house and whether one can build additions of any sort. Kind of makes it even creepier.