Tabula Rasa

February 20, 2020

As I write this, it’s day 1. 

The contractor is coming to do the tear-down. The room is going to be completely empty by the end of the day.

I remember that the first Latin phrase I ever learned was tabula rasa. Empty slate. The phrase is used most often in relation to child development and learning theories, the idea proposed that we are empty slates and life fills us up with learning new information as we grow. We have an infinite potential, according to the theory.

And that’s how I feel about this room now. The potential is vast. It’s my white canvas. And that is more than a little intimidating, I’ll admit. Will the dimensions work? Is my design user-friendly? Will the update stand the test of time, or will I hate it after a few months? Is it too white, too stark? Was wood flooring a poor choice? The only way to know is to jump in, to start painting like mad on that canvas. If I made planning mistakes, well, so be it.

Because indeed, although it’s day 1, it’s hardly the first day of planning this space. I started planning elements of this space when designing the kitchen for the house we were going to build. Actually, I started designing elements of this kitchen when I remodeled our first kitchen back in Illinois. This time around I got a designer to draw up my vision, and a contractor who could execute the plan much more efficiently. We had interviewed three contractors; one had more enthusiasm than expertise, one had dollar signs in his eyes, and the third—the one we chose—was the only one to take me to a current project to show me his work. 

We negotiated. I ordered appliances, light fixtures, soundproofing for the fridge, a sink, cabinet hardware, a faucet. I ordered tile samples. I labored over paint samples (oh dear, so many whites to choose from!). I spent hours on Houzz and Pinterest, choosing photos of kitchens I liked, then focusing on elements such as backsplashes, flooring, and cabinet styles. So actually, a huge portion of my job is done. But there’s so much more to come!

My husband, a salvage nut, decided he wanted to save some of the wood—a very strong red oak—for future projects, so he started on the demolition early. He had already removed the tile flooring, of course, and removing the granite countertops was a multi-person job, of course, but he was able to remove some cabinetry to use in the garage and for some future shelving in the laundry room.

There’s no going back now!!