A Journal in Time

Myriad Writings from the Desk of Isyldar

Sunshine

To each their own, of course; but I have always been a big proponent of light. Not just in having it of course, but in having the right light. You can’t just throw a light in the ceiling turn it on and call it good enough. A room needs the right amount of light, and in the right places.

My parents would always scold me for turning on all the lights in the house, in nearly every room when I was home by myself. They would often come home to this, and be angry with me for it; and I can truly appreciate their reasons. It does, after all, cost money to do these things. (Though I admit, back then, I either didn’t realize this, couldn’t comprehend it, or didn’t care. I won’t decide which. It was probably some part of all three.)

Nowadays, I often find myself sharing their opinions of needing to reduce the number of lights I leave on in the house; because, I pay the bills now, and I don’t like having a really big hydro bill.

However, I still greatly enjoy having a room lit appropriately. In the evening, or through the night, when I’m not up working on a project, a couple lamps in the corner to throw an ambient mood, relaxing; when I’m working on a project and want the energy that comes with a well lit, fully lit, all guns ablazing room, all the lights are on.

And then there’s the day. I absolutely love being able to throw open all of the windows in the house, every curtain, and let the sunshine in. Particularly if I’m in that room. If I’m not, I just like knowing that the house is open to the air, and that the room is lit, not dark stuffy and closed. I like open-air freedom. In my office, I like nothing more than to have no lights on, but the sun streaming in the window, lighting my way and giving off that sense of reality, rightness that only comes with a naturally lit space. This is how it should be; why must it be any way else?

I know, I’m eccentric, and fussy to boot. Hell, most days I don’t even understand myself, let alone do I expect anyone else to. Still, it’s fun to write about it.

Isyldar

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