As much as I like the look of bare walls in all their modern glory and clean appearance, sometimes a piece of art calls out to you and you must answer the call with, “Yes indeedy, I think I will be hanging that in my living room tonight.” These works of art can come from any number of sources: a friend who does graphic design, a First-Friday post-free-wine out-at-the-gallery impulse buy, a map with pins in the places you’ve been, or reprints of vintage posters ala Hatch Show Print in Nashville.
I’ve got my buddy, Jeremy’s, prints on my walls right now as well as one of Mikey’s in my office at work. And one of my favorite things to do is have a drink or two and go about rearranging them on the wall. Then, when I wake up, it’s almost as if I am in a new home, save for the fact that none of the furniture or other furnishings are new and the condo hasn’t up and moved locations.
Of course, this method of reorganizing my stuff, especially with a fuzzy mind, has proven dangerous as I sometimes put stuff away and forget where it is. It’s a lot like moving and throwing various items all in one box. I still can’t find where I put my fake dogtags. That sucks.