I dont’ think I’ve ever been in a house of any kind that was quite finished. Some might say no house is ever quite finished and that this is a process. Others may think that finally finishing a house will jinx it or bring about the destruction of the entire building, like the case of the Brick Layer of Nidarosdomen. This sculpture, located high on the roof of the Trondheim cathedral, is forever holding the last brick in his hand, ready to place, but never to be so. For it is said that if the Nidarosdome is ever finished, the whole cathedral will instantly crumble and be washed away in the river.
In terms of thermodynamics, there is something to be said for this theory. Thing will fall apart, they will deteriorate and if something is never finished, then no one can say it can be destroyed. This poetic statement will however not keep away the need for repair or maintenance. Nor will it solve all the little problems that not quite finishing things will bring.
For it’s always the little things, the lining, the last bit of paint on the wall where it is hard to reach, the one nail that sticks out a bit in the corner. Right now, I have about a hundred (more or less) little things that I could probably live with not finishing, but will cause hundreds of tiny, daily irritations. And in a smaller house, these will be closer to my daily routine, more visible. These things are often encapsulated in people’s lives, like so many shrapnels in a body. You find ways to move around them, you stop seeing them after a while, but they’re still there.
Part of my motivation for building a house was to get a chance to deal with all the little things, since it’s always easier to finish a job yourself than to pick up someone else’s slack. Now I just need to find the motivation to live up to my own wants. Easier said than lived. I suppose not over thinking it might help. Also not one of my strong sides.