I never thought I would cry over a magazine.
But it was like losing a dear friend when I found out that the March issue of Domino will be the last. I've asked for subscriptions for the past three birthdays and the year before that, read the copies at the waiting room at work (I MIGHT have ripped out a few pages...might have). I used its ideas to develop the color scheme for our first home (where we could paint the walls.) I kept files of ideas from the magazine for that far-off day when we will be able to own our own home. From the magazine, I learned about designers such as Jonathon Adler, Victoria Hagen, Dwell. Each month was a gift.
It's gone. And I'm sad.
But I think, beyond the little endorphine rush I would get when I found it nestled there in the mail box; the magazine meant so much to me because it embodied the beauty, care, and joy I experience in creating a HOME. I love caring for our living space, making it a sacred, holy place, and I found kindred spirits with others whose greatest joy is to live well.
The world is a hard place. People can be mean or just tiresome. Stores make me unhappy with what I DON'T have. So in contrast, my nest is a place to relax, to savor the people and things that matter most, and to appreciate what I already own and how truly blessed I am.
The manifesto of Domino magazine still rings a true note with me, even if the stupid economy is drawing to a close one little gem of a magazine: Home should make you happy.
And it does...it truly does.
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