I started crying in my driveway.
The idea that Tate thought of this house as his home, not the house in Oregon that I loved and had painted and felt like us, was, for whatever reason, devastating to me. Combined with the realization that I was reluctant to invite people over because I was afraid they would think that I had actually hung those terrible floral curtains or chosen that horrible baby-poop colored wall paint, and it became crystal-clear that our space was negatively impacting not only our quality of life but also my own sense of contentment here.
So began the great home investment of 2014. We painted. Hung wallpaper. Bought furniture. And put up art.
One of the most important pieces that we hung was the piece hanging in the window in our entryway. Here's the story.
There is an amazing store called Pinch Gallery about 30 minutes from our house. I love Pinch so, so much. And I walked in one day, just a few months after we moved here, and saw the piece above. I immediately loved it. But when I went back to buy it, it was sold out. Lo and behold, about 2 months after I decided that I was going to try- to really, really try- to make our home our own, I was at Pinch and they had it back in stock. It was meant to be. I bought it that day.
In so many ways, I feel like this is an aspirational piece for me. A reminder of what I value, the kind of home I want to have here. It makes me so happy.
If you're looking for art, be sure to check out Pinch Gallery. I find their stock simultaneously funny and sweet and beautiful... definitely worth exploring.