I want to go there—to that cozy log cabin in the Terry Redlin painting above. It looks welcoming and warm. It looks quiet and peaceful. And it looks rustic.
I like rustic. Well, okay, I like the appearance of rustic. I want to live in that log cabin…but it has to have good insulation for the winter, air conditioning for the summer, indoor plumbing, and cable TV. I long to sip coffee on the porch swing in the morning as the birds sing their version of “Morning Has Broken,” and then I want to connect to the internet and check up on my Facebook friends. Yes, I love rustic!
Some of my favorite vacations have been in the woods of Door County, WI—waking up in the morning and seeing deer grazing at the edge of a field; watching hawks circling for five…ten minutes without ever flapping their wings; listening to the trees creaking in the wind. But I also remember moving my laptop all over one of our rented cabins to try to pick up the wireless connection the brochure promised and getting frustrated when I couldn’t get a cell phone signal! And there’s nothing like making a roaring fire in the fireplace, wrapping up in a comforter and watching one of my favorite DVDs.
Why do I long for the simple while finding it nearly impossible to let go of the technological? What does rustic do for me? Does it give me the illusion that I’m really not addicted to modern conveniences, when I obviously am? And is that so bad?
I have no answers; I’m just wondering. Now that I think of it, I did make it one week without cell phone or internet connection while on vacation with my family. But I did have my computer and TV and a car and a hair dryer…