As a small business owner, I can’t help but have visions of a shop to call my own. I dream of a studio, office and retail shop for everyone to enjoy. Matte black accent walls, lush greenery, brilliant lighting, hardwood floors, and dried flowers arranged so magnificently that many would believe them to be an art installation. But as a small business owner, I have to start small. And so I am. With a newly re-designed studio, office and retail display (albeit petite)…one floor beneath my living space. We all need a foundation on which to build and grow, so for now, the basement it is.
I am fortunate to have a workable space, but it’s not pretty to look at. Yet it has served a purpose as my creative work area. A few tiny windows, a lovely combination of cement and tile flooring, cinder block walls and partitions covered with paneling. Throw in some fluorescent lighting, dingy drop ceiling panels, and I have the typical basement of an older home. Wonderful for storing and stashing things, laundry, and a space for my kids to play. But I came to realize that my boys really never played down there, and who could blame them? Furthermore, why not try and make this vision a reality…even if it is my basement?
While I don’t have any flesh-eating plants in my basement, I’ve dubbed it My Own Little Shop of Horrors (minus the comedic genius of both Rick Moranis and Steve Martin, though Nicole and Clare are giving them a run for their money). Remember that film about the introverted wannabe botanist Seymour Krelborn who fiddles his nights away in the basement of Mushnik’s Flower Shop, trying to create a plant that will help save his job and the shop? And in the meantime, he hopes to win the heart of floral designer Audrey? But then a man-eating plant shows up and of course, trouble ensues in this good vs. evil story. I often see myself as Seymour, down in my basement, late in the evening, fiddling around with plants.
The process of bringing life to my basement has only just begun. But I’ll admit, just like most things, it’s been a bigger undertaking than what I had imagined it would be. I figured some organizing, some cleaning, some decorating. Only the organizing led me to realize just how much stuff I have…Marie Kondo, where are you? Please, help me spark some joy! And the cleaning. Oh the cleaning! I ultimately had to enlist the help of a commercial cleaning company because it was beyond the realm of what we could do. A dust mop, vacuum and a bucket of bleach weren’t going to cut it. The house in which I live was built in 1953, and within the cracks and crevices of a basement, 67 years of life have unfolded one floor beneath my living space. 67 years. So the work continues, but progress is being made.
An area for personal belongings has been established; ceiling panels have been removed and after a thorough professional cleaning, I have what feels like, a fresh start. The walls and ceiling have been painted a bright white, and a work flow has been determined. Yet there’s still so much more to be done. Purchasing items, assembling shelves and storage, organizing plants and dried flowers, installing light fixtures, and finding/hiring a carpenter that can help bring my vision to life.
You know that feeling that comes along at the end of February, when it’s cold and dark and messy outside from winter’s rain and snow, but you can just sense that we’re almost through the thick of it? The anxiousness we feel when spring is nearing…but nature still has a lot of work to do? I can’t help but notice the parallels between this feeling and what I feel as My Little Shop of Horrors transitions into something more than a dreary and gloomy basement. So in the meantime, as I dream of my own studio, office and retail space above ground level, I’ll remember the words of Seymour to his love Audrey: “We’re gonna get that little house and everything’s gonna be alright, you’ll see.”
I’ll continue to keep everyone posted on the trials and tribulations of My Own Little Shop of Horrors…stay tuned!