I love this photo. I just want clean white sheets.
Was it The Velveteen Rabbit that had the image of the counterpane as a rural landscape? I remember this really vividly, for some reason… the little boy looking over the contours of the patchwork bedspread, all the different paddocks.
(I am taking a day off from my life today. Or am trying, at least.)
Roland and Maude’s obsession with clean white sheets in A.S. Byatt’s Posession has always resonated with me. I love sleeping, and slow crumpled mornings tangled in bed linen… the warm, lingering sweetness of being in bed with someone you hold dear. It is such moments that make the coming day seem so promising and that I find myself looking forward to as I drift into sleep. No light is quite as good as that early morning light. I love these moments.
I notice I’m not alone, however. Claire Sloan takes beautiful time-lapse photographs of herself sleeping. They are blurred and soft, the light is perfect.
And another Claire has a darling autobiographical flickr set of photographs of her recently vacated bed. They always carry within them a yearning, a desire to not have to get up and leave the one she loves and go out into the greyness. To remain, swimming in vintage sheets and golden light in an empty room.
I had an interesting conversation with my dear friend Katrina recently, about the value of day-to-day happiness. Mornings spent between my red sheets are one such happiness for me. A comma, a pause.
