Cleaning the foyer, at my house, is a morning's work - no small job. The person who designed the area made mistakes going and coming; I love the strange set-up only because it directs so much sunlight into the living room. This great placement makes for beautiful and bright winter days.
Otherwise, the foyer is akin to a long, galloping hallway that runs the length of the guest room wall and the dining room, which is open above the chair-rail. The lack of a wall, right there, displays a cheerful dinner space; that's important, in this case, because the furniture is just a touch too large for the room itself. With two open walls, the smallness of the room exudes a remarkable feeling of simple coziness.
I've divided my foyer into two separate areas using a tall, ladder-type plant holder of African violets sitting on an oversize round coir rug right at the halfway point of the walking space. Feng Shui dictates that the chi be slowed down and not allowed to run from the front door, down the foyer, and through the living room in a straight line. This ploy works beautifully.
That the rug is too big for the width of the area and is tucked in on one side divides the small space in half and makes the foyer look wider at the same time. It reminds me of Grandmother's palmetto grass rug which she had arranged in the same way on one wall of her foyer under cuckoo clocks and weather vanes. A bench sat along that wall. She tucked the rug under because of the effect and not because of the size of the space. Grandmother's foyer was room-sized and square, after all.
The area before the coir rug is the entrance-way; a windowpane door with an over-sized seascape to the right and a foyer table, lamp, and mirror to the left. That's what I've always wanted. Who knew that it would become such a home-design puzzle simply because the hallway doesn't really stop there?
On the other side of the plant stand and rug, walking into the living room, is the pouting bench. I owned two derelict park benches in Jacksonville, gifts from my husband. I designated them for pouting and other thoughtful moments. When I left, I gave the hardware to a friend and threw the wooden planks away. Richie rebuilt the benches. He has one at his house and I have the other in my foyer with an oversize painting of a Wilmington tobacco barn on the opposite wall.
Every time I clean the foyer, as you see, I become mildly irked at the design in general. The space is a little too narrow and the wall on the right can only sport paintings and the laundry room door to allow for any walking at all.
The whole area is a little too long, hence my mentally cutting it in half with a floor covering and plants. I spend a good portion of my working time, on those cleaning days, rearranging real and imaginary furnishings in my head. Why can I not figure out some better way of balancing out this long and lean, room-like space?
Once everything is spit and polish, however, I quickly forget my irritation. The mirror and hallway-type chandelier sparkle. Teak, bathed in oil and buffed to a healthy glow, is timeless. My park bench is cozy-looking and inviting under its pillows. Violets are watered and seasonal flowers are blooming in the doorway, inside and out. The artists, whose works are hanging, have gained prominence over the years. Tile is gleaming; coir is welcoming - trimmed of snags. Door panes are nearly transparent and beckon, "Come in."
The Bose changer, long banished to inhabit the foyer table's bottom shelf, has been re-filled with fall favorites. The Barber of Seville is turned up high. I am making a lunch smoothie of fruits, green nutrients, rice protein powder, and healthy oils. Yum. Wonderful. Beautiful. What's not to love?
Figaro up. Figaro down.
Quicker and quicker
I go like greased lightning....
La, la, la, la, la, la.
La la, La la la.
