I’m a REAL Runner…

I just got home from finishing another Ragnar race. We ran from Madison, WI to Chicago, IL. If you know anything about Ragnar races, you know there are usually 12 members to a team and you take turns running the entire time. There is always a runner “in the field”, even throughout the night. There are exchange points where you swap out runners and can change clothes, use the stinky port a potties or gas up, but you are continuously moving, no stopping until you reach the finish line in Chicago. You should google it or watch some videos on You Tube. It’s a one of a kind experience and a ton of fun. I find it addicting also, I am already planning next year’s Ragnar.

This year we decided to do an Ultra Ragnar, which means we have 6 runners instead of 12 and we are twice as crazy.

We run twice as many times, double the amount of miles and twice the insanity. With 2 vans of 6 runners each, when you run your 6 legs and the next van takes over for their 6 legs, you get a little break (could be 6 hours) to eat some food, sleep in a field or on the lawn of a school and if you are really lucky, find a shower before your van takes over again. With an ultra, there is never a break. You are constantly running, dropping off a runner, picking up a runner or driving to the next exchange. Everything is done in the van. Eating, resting, rehydrating, changing clothes, rolling out muscles. You run and when you are picked up, you get in the van and sit so you have to roll out your muscles with a stick in the van so you don’t stiffen up. It’s a physical challenge and a mental challenge.

 

Mentally, you have to push through exhaustion, nausea, soreness, and most of all, the little voice in your head telling you to quit, that you can’t do it. That you are tired and can’t run one more mile, much less 10 more miles.

So, why do this to myself? And where does the fun part come in? For me, the fun is in the challenge, the experience, the people I do it with and the feeling of crossing that finish line 30 hours later. And this…

Upon returning home, I experience “Ragnar depression”, a condition many of us go through. When you are lucky enough to love your teammates so much you miss them, when you crave running multiple times in one day, when it’s a bummer to get your gear from a drawer instead of a duffel bag buried under 5 other duffle bags in the back of a van, you have Ragnar depression.

As I was wallowing in my Ragnar depression, the awesome people of Ragnar were busy posting videos, photos and race results. Scrolling through photos, I was thrilled to see they had captured a very emotional and special moment for me.

This was my last run, around 30 hours after beginning. I was passing the slap bracelet to Christy who was about to run her last leg. Up to this point, I had never felt like a “real” runner. I had never felt strong or athletic. I would look at other runners and think I could never be like them, my body looked different, maybe I wasn’t as fast. But guess what? I AM a “real” runner. I am strong. I am athletic and my body performed for me. I had my fair share of “kills” (a Ragnar term meaning how many runners you pass.) I pushed through tired legs and a weak stomach, spasms in my intestines and came through the other side. I am an Ultra Ragnar runner. Christy and I shared a very special and personal moment for me and I feel blessed she was there. I finished my last run in a lot of pain from a knee injury but I finished on pace and I was so happy I was done.

It was rainy and cold when we crossed the finish line together as a team. We received our medals and noticed the backs spelled something when put all together.

Our medals don’t tie us together. Our bond comes from sharing a common goal, working together to achieve that goal, sharing experiences along the way and sharing a love for running that only a “real” runner could possibly understand.

And of course, Steve….

A DIY Butterfly Tree…

I like my street. I like the view from my couch. I like to watch people walking by. In the winter months, people walk by quickly, with heads bent against the cold. As the weather warms up, the birds start to sing and the snow starts to melt, everyone comes out of hibernation. I see more people, more dogs, more runners, and more bike riders. Even if you are a winter person, everyone looks forward to spring. The time of rebirth, renew and refreshing your decor!

If you are a resourceful person, you can make this butterfly art tree for as little as a couple of dollars. Seriously. I only had to buy 4 sheets of cardstock scrapbooking paper. I bought 2 sheets of a linen texture white and 2 sheets of a pearly ivory.

I started with these empty branches in “whooey” my owl vase.

I always have branches in my house. In the fall, I bring in branches of bittersweet from our backyard. In the winter I will remove the berries and hang glass icicles on the branches. This spring I thought they looked empty and was craving a craft project so I looked through my “paper cupboard” in the studio and came up with this butterfly stencil, paper and my glue gun.

If you don’t have a butterfly stencil, just freehand one!

I cut mine out 2 sheets of paper at a time because I am impatient and don’t like to cut things out and just wanted to get it over with.

Then I bent the wings up to give them a 3D effect, put a little hot glue on the back of the butterfly and attached to the branches. I clumped more butterflies in the center and fewer as they branched out. (HA! Get it? “Branched” out?)

TA-DA! A butterfly tree, an art installation, a spring craft!

You could make this as your centerpiece for your Easter table, a baby shower, bridal shower or even wedding décor! There are a plethora of branches lying on the ground, so go outside, pick some up and CREATE!

Painting a Clean Stripe…

There really is no trick to painting a clean stripe except to use good quality products. This includes your paint, your brushes and your tape. With any other color combination like Ecru on White or Wheat Yellow on Yellow there is room for error. No room for error with black and white. It is going to be obvious if the tape bleeds or you don’t have a steady hand.

But let’s go back to the beginning. Let’s start with your blank, clean wall. This is the wall you face when entering my kitchen from the dining room.

It’s weird, I know. You walk into a wall and have to make a sharp right into the kitchen. You can also see it from the living room and if you crane your neck to the left, from the entryway, too. But it’s an old house so with all the great character you have to take the weird, too.

Start by measuring off your stripes. I measure from the floor, as most houses don’t have crooked floors. With my old house I take a risk here but after 18 years in my house I know where all the crooked spots are.

After you measure, make little pencil marks in at least 3 places along the wall where your tape will go. This will prevent “sagging” in the middle when you put your tape up. One thing to consider when painting stripes is the distance between them. If they are too skinny it tends to look very busy and have the dizzy effect. I spaced mine out 8 inches with 8 inches between each stripe.

Put up your tape using a firm finger along the edge where the paint is going. I even rub it back and forth to really press it to the wall. When you apply your first coat, use a dry brush technique; meaning apply the paint to the roller, then roll it off on newspaper before applying to the wall.

You can see I don’t go to the edges. I fill that in later with a small hand brush. I also use blue tape. I have tried green frog tape and I personally prefer blue tape. For me, it gets a cleaner edge. Your first coat will look very thin, but it should. Doing it thin and dry is what keeps your edges clean. Your second coat will look much better.

I pull the tape off right away after applying second coat, except along the edges where I haven’t painted yet.

This allows me to see any bleeding and if it’s wet, I can wipe it with a damp towel right away and not have to repaint. IF you end up with some bleeding like this…

…wait for the paint to fully dry then you can tape off your black and touch up your white with a small hand brush or if you have a steady hand, just run white paint along the border and “erase” the bleeding. If it’s really bad, you might want to expand your black stripe by re-taping and brushing it by hand with a small brush. You may have gotten bleeding from your tape coming off the wall or your brush wasn’t dry when applying the paint. You have to be patient with stripes, it’s not a half day job. It’s really key to have a dry brush and if that means more coats for you to do, a good job is worth the wait.

And here it is looking in from the dining room..(taken at Christmas time…)

Better than a plain wall? It’s all in the eye of the beholder but my eyes prefer color and pattern. This technique could also be used to stripe a piece of furniture. So, do you feel ready to paint a stripe?

Valentine’s Day Bunting

In my line of work (I am a seamstress and a designer) I am in the fabric store fairly frequently and I have seen this chair webbing for years..

Chair webbing is used in upholstery projects; it’s the stuff that’s under the seat you are sitting on to keep you from falling through to the floor. Not all chairs use it, mostly older chairs. Anyway, I always liked it and thought “What else could this be used for?” I had seen it used as Christmas décor in a friend’s house..

But how could I make it my own? Then it clicked, BUNTING! I have made bunting for years even before it’s been a fad thing with hipsters and yuppies, I could make bunting from this chair webbing. It would be a little bit rustic, a little bit barn chic, a little bit vintage and a lot quick, easy and cool!

Start by measuring out how long you want them to be. I cut mine into 7 inch pieces.

Then I folded over the top about an inch and ironed it. I did this not because I like to iron but because the webbing is a bit stiff and I wanted the top clean and folded over and it would sew nicer if it was ironed first.

Then just sew a ribbon through spacing out how far apart you want them to be. Mine are spaced about 1 and half to 2 inches apart. I also use grosgrain ribbon. It has a little texture and depth to it and won’t “ripple” like a satin ribbon will when sewing on it.

TA-DA! Quick, easy and cool, right? I made mine just long enough for my mantle, but you can go crazy and make yards of it to zig zag across your ceiling if you want.

I’m sure I will think of more uses for this chair webbing, as I’m writing this the wheels are turning in my brain so stay tuned for more ways to use this kind of rustic, kind of chic ordinary chair webbing…

Speechless…

I am speechless. Actually, that’s not totally true or I couldn’t write this, but I am struggling with putting what I am feeling into words. A few words that pop into my head are overwhelmed, moved and grateful.

I am overwhelmed.

When I wrote about suicide and Aundray I must confess, it was mostly for me. I need creative outlets to release emotions, energy and for expression. I am an action person and need to put my feelings into action. I also did it for my sister. I can’t bear to see her suffering. It tears me apart. I needed to act on the feelings we were all having. What I didn’t expect was the continuing outreach and support of total strangers writing in, sharing their experiences, offering support and love. Offering prayers on behalf of my sister, brother in law and nephews. I never expected it and I am overwhelmed by the kindness, compassion and love of strangers.

I am moved.

I shed tears of a different kind when reading your emails and comments. I felt connected to each of you as you reached out to connect with me and with my sister. I was moved by the sensitivity and gentleness you showed. I have read about strangers reaching out in love but have never experienced it myself until now and I am moved.

I am grateful.

I am new to blogging, joining the party late, as usual (technology and I are in the “getting to know you” stage of our relationship) and I do it for myself. Like I said previously, it’s a creative outlet for me. I was so surprised by how many times Aundray’s blog was viewed and shared. It was something I didn’t expect but truly feel grateful for. Only when we are not afraid or ashamed to talk about suicide can it be prevented. You cannot know how truly devastating it is until it happens to someone you love. To those that read it and shared it, I am grateful to you.

Hey you. Yeah, you, you’re pretty awesome you know that? Thank you.

Suicide Sucks

It was later on Sunday evening, the 7th of December 2014 when my cell phone rang. It was next to me on the couch. My battery was low and I couldn’t answer it but I saw that it was my sister Carrie. We had just talked a few hours earlier about nothing really, just our Dad and how old he was. We joked that he didn’t look his age and that we were inheriting good genes from him in exchange for bad knees and hips. When I saw her calling I remember thinking that was weird because if she forgot something, she would of sent a text. As soon as I had that thought the house phone rang. Our landline. Which no one calls except telemarketers. Without even seeing the phone I knew it was her. I told my hunny to toss me his cell so I could call her back.

“Hello?”
“Hi Care Bear, it’s Justine”
“Justine?” (Sound of sobbing)
And this is where the hairs start to raise up on the back of my neck because if you knew my sister, you knew crying signaled something REALLY wrong. She is not a crier.
“Care Bear, what’s wrong?” I almost demanded it from her and I wasn’t prepared nor could I have ever prepared for what she said next.
“Aundray died.”
Just like that. Aundray died.
“WHAT?” It was at this point I think my head started to float away from my body and the nightmare started.
“He hung himself in his closet.”
The words she was saying were as foreign to me as if she was speaking another language except I could understand her. I just couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing made sense. I stood up and it must have been the look on my face but my husband stopped eating mid bite, my son stopped working on his homework at the table and my daughter who had come over to watch a Christmas movie stopped putting on her shoes in the entryway. They all were staring at me.
“Where is he now?” I felt frantic; I had to go to her. I had to go to him.
“They took him away by ambulance” (Oh good, I thought, he isn’t really dead.)
“Where? What hospital?”
“I don’t know. They tried to resuscitate him but he died.” (NO. NO. NO!)
“Where are you?”
“I’m at home.” (More sobbing)
“I’m coming Care, I’m coming right now!”
I turned to my hunny that had noodles hanging out of his mouth and looked him dead in the eye and said, “We have to go to Carrie’s right now. Aundray died.” My 17 year old, 6 foot 3 inch son stood up, broke into tears and said, “But I really loved him.”

(This is Aundray and Max in 2011. Best friend cousins.)

We met at my Dad’s house because they couldn’t stay in the house that night. There are no words you can say to someone you love about someone you love that will make anyone feel better. You can only hold each other tight and cry. You can only put your arm around them as if you can protect them from the grief and pain that comes in giant tidal waves. But you can’t. You can’t protect them. You can only hold their hand and walk side by side with them through the pain, grief, guilt, confusion and anger that come with suicide.

When I did drive home during the early hours on the following morning, I allowed my grief to surface. MY love for my nephew, MY sorrow, MY anger, MY confusion, MY deep despair and I sobbed. I couldn’t stop. I sobbed out loud in the car in front of my family. I thought I was done and I sobbed some more. I sobbed until my whole body shook and my eyes were swollen.

The days and nights that followed are a blur. I remember returning to the house for the first time the following day with my sister, brother in law and nephew and cleaning because that’s all you can do and you have to do something. I remember all my sisters flying in. I remember the wake. I remember sitting in the car alone because I was too afraid to go in; like genuine, bona fide fear. I didn’t want to see Aundray dead because then it would be real. I remember telling myself to suck it up for my sister and get my butt inside. I remember the funeral and reading the words my sister and my brother in law wanted to say about their son. The things they wanted people to hear and remember about their beautiful, mischievous 15-year-old son, my nephew. I remember feeling such profound sadness yet at the same time frustration and brief flickers of anger. These are feelings I wake up with every day still.

Suicide sucks.

There is no preparation. There is no closure. There are no goodbyes. There are no answers. Aundray was not bullied at school. He had several friends who despite being big teenage boys wept openly for their friend. Aundray was loved by almost everyone who met him. Aundray battled one enemy and that was depression. Depression took from him his ability to see how much we all love him, and suicide took his life.

 

(Please, after reading this post, please share it. Pass it on. If it can open the line of communication for only one suffering from depression, for only one contemplating suicide then Aundray’s death would not be in vain. Don’t do it for me, do it for Aundray, do it for all those suffering this silent killer.)

My Fall Mantle

Yikes! I blinked and fall is almost over. Temperatures are supposed to dip below the 30’s tonight into the 20’s. My cousin posted a picture of a dusting of snow in her area this morning and she only lives about 4 hours from me!

At the dentist this morning I was chatting with the hygienist about plans for trick or treating and GASP! I didn’t even get a post up about decorating for fall yet! Good thing I didn’t go too “halloweeny” this year so it can roll over for Thanksgiving.

The owl vase (named “Whooey”) pretty much stays year round, I just shove different things in him. We grow bittersweet in our backyard and got quite a bit this year.

I even sold bunches of it.

To be honest, I wasn’t really feeling the decorating this year, but thought if I did something it would lift my spirits, so I threw this stuff up in about an hour.

Crows and candy and bittersweet, OH MY!

You can pick up a variety of cheap crows at a craft store, dollar store or big box store, apply some glue on the beak and sprinkle with glitter. Then your cheap crows look like more expensive decorator pieces! I like to use modge podge as my glue because it dries quicker and I like a little instant gratification when doing a little quick decorating.

The letters I picked up while at a flea market with my cousin Shelly. My plan is the spell “Childs” (my last name) but I only have 3 of the letters. This is where patience comes in handy because I won’t buy any old letters just to have all the letters at once. I can wait until I find the letters I really like and want.

I made the “EEK” banner a few years ago when I couldn’t find one I liked. Micheals craft store has a really cute Halloween banner this year. So if you don’t want to make one, there are cute ones out there to buy.

I will finish with a little Halloween cutie pie….

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Be safe and be warm and may your pumpkins make it through the night!

 

P.S. Interesting note about this post….I went to post it yesterday on Halloween and couldn’t find my computer cord.  Found it and then the mouse wouldn’t work. Got that working and was almost ready to post, one more picture to upload and the computer went blank and I lost all my work. TRICK or TREAT? You decide…..

 

It’s The Little Things…

I know, I know, it’s been awhile. More than awhile and I fully admit it. I don’t like to complain or make excuses but I will attempt to explain my absence from the blogging world.

For the past year I have been sick. It started with a pain in my side, like up under my right rib. It was constant and never let up. Nausea often accompanied it, and later became my constant companion. I was alarmed because I do NOT get sick and I knew something wasn’t right. About a month into those 2 symptoms, the fatigue settled in. I mean; it moved in, repainted the place, hung new drapes and made itself very comfortable. This is an odd thing to say, but I got used to it. I even kept running and managed 2 Ragnar races. I got slower as the months went by and was pretty much at my end 11 months later but I faked it really good. I don’t think even my husband and kids knew the pain, nausea and fatigue I was feeling on a daily basis. I hid it really, really well.

I think part of being tired and sick all the time is depression. You feel so embarrassed for being the person that never shows up for things, doesn’t return phone calls, does as little as possible, generally lets everyone down in your life that you feel overwhelmed with guilt and sadness and disappointment in yourself. You KNOW you are capable of so much more, why can’t you feel the desire to do it?

I went to so many doctors and had so many tests over the past 11 months with no answers. I had one last test to take a biopsy of my stomach and small intestine and I decided if I still had no answers I was going to be done. No more doctors. But I did get an answer. Finally. I have Celiac Disease. An autoimmune disease. An immune reaction to eating gluten, a protein found in wheat, barley and rye.

Eating gluten triggers an immune response in your small intestine. Over time, this reaction produces inflammation that damages the small intestine’s lining and prevents absorption of some nutrients. The intestinal damage can cause weight loss or gain, bloating, diarrhea or constipation. Eventually your brain, nervous system, bones, liver and other organs can be deprived of vital nourishment. There is no cure but with changing eating habits, the damage can be repaired. The human body is amazing. I’m always fascinated how it wants to heal itself and just needs us to treat it properly.

So, to sum up, I am figuring everything out with food. There are quite lengthy lists of foods I cannot eat and since something was still making me sick, I made the decision to go Paleo for a month or so to “reset” my body.

I am also trying to “reset” my emotional self and connections. I am trying to return phone calls, show up a few places and making myself move more. My creative self took quite a hit so I tried to waken it with a few little projects of eye candy.

 

A cheap scale that was trying to define me with a little number. I reminded it (and myself) that a number on a cheap scale (or any scale) can NOT define me.

I like to make ordinary things beautiful, so I do this sort of thing to paperclips. It makes me happier to paperclip things, whether the pages of a book or just some notes.

A cheap light up arrow from Target. I saw it twice and it made me think of my friend Rae who is always an inspiration to me. I hung it behind my sewing machine and turn it on when I work to make me feel happier about working. It works.

So this blog was longer than I intended and I apologize for that. I don’t like to read blogs that are too “wordy”. I am like a 5 year old. More pictures, less words. Next time, I promise…

Tales From a Ragnar Virgin…

I like to run. I am not a strong runner or a fast runner or even a great runner. I just like to run. I have done half marathons (NO desire to do a full!), 5K’s, muddy runs, fun runs and turkey trots but I have never done a Ragnar. Until now.

I decided I wanted to do a Ragnar. A Ragnar is a 200 mile relay race with a team consisting of 12 members, 2 vans and a ton of fun! You take turns running for 2 days straight. You push through hunger, fatigue, nausea, heat exhaustion and poop issues. But, hey..that’s probably just me!

 

 

I heard about one not far from me so I went on the website and looked for teams needing more members. I said I wasn’t fast but was fun to be around if anyone wanted me. Someone answered me and invited me to join their group!

 

(That’s me in the middle straining to be seen over Jason’s furry head!)

 

 

The day before the race, I drove to Illinois to stay the night with a member of my team I would be meeting for the first time. I didn’t know anyone on my team and would be meeting them all for the first time the day of the race.

As I was making the 5-6 hour drive, I could feel the excitement building in my gut and to get it out (and also not fall asleep at the wheel) I would scream at the top of my lungs, “RAGNAR!!!!!”

 

When I drove up to Kendel’s house, I couldn’t wait to meet her. I also felt a bit apprehensive, “What if she is weird?” “What if she doesn’t like me?” “What if she finds out I’M weird?”

All my fears melted away when she answered her door and gave me a big welcome hug. She has the 2 cutest little girls who wanted to show me their rooms and she was making a delicious dinner for us. I met her neighbor Melissa who was also running Ragnar and I knew I was going to have one of the best adventures.

Morning of the race came along with butterflies and meeting the rest of our team in van 2.

(Our team captain David, Jackie, Abby, Me, Melissa, Kendel)

 

Let me just say that when you spend 2 days in a van with people, you get over the initial awkwardness quickly. David became Uncle Dave and our van became “Uncle Dave and the girls.”

 

One of our teammates in Van 1 made us superheroes we stuck to our van with boxes below to check off every time we finished a leg.

 

 

Topics of conversation turned quickly from “What do you do for a living?” and “Where are you from?” to “Wouldn’t it hurt if you shut your nipple in this door?” to “When did I eat corn?!”

Other topics of conversation included “Better to burp and taste it than fart and waste it” “the benefits of running commando” and our dominating topic of conversation…”POOP.”

Pooping is SUPER important to 2 groups of people, babies and runners. It is very uncomfortable to run full. Of anything, food or what food becomes. I think it’s even been scientifically proven that you can run faster and better after a good dump. I could be wrong.

When night fell, you could feel a change in the energy. It was ELECTRIC! A lot of runners are nervous about running in the dark. I actually prefer running in the dark and it became our team’s favorite run.

 

(Melissa, Me, Kendel)

 

We did crazy dances, sang some weird songs, met a drunk on a country road running in his socks. It was a crazy and fun night! We eventually found a YMCA around 2 or 3am and crashed on a carpet covered cement floor for a few hours.

The next day, when we crossed the finish line I fought back tears (happy ones). Running with my whole team through the orange archway. I was glad I had my sunglasses on so no one could see. I felt so proud of myself for doing it, I was so grateful I had such a fun team and made new friends and I was a little sad it was over.

 

(That’s Kendel “bringing us home!”)

 

(Kendel, Abby, Jackie, Melissa, Me and David, stinky, tired and DONE!)

 

Back at home, running a few days later I was making my way up a hill when I saw a white van approaching. I totally expected to see it painted up, decorated with Ragnarians hanging out the windows honking or ringing cow bells and cheering me on. Imagine my disappointment when it turned out to be an ordinary van.

Ragnar is not an easy race. You push past all comfort zones you can imagine. You also make new friends, meet lots of cool people and surprise yourself.

 

It’s one of my best decisions.

I can’t wait to do it again.

How to Hang Pictures and My Brother Barry…

I once heard a statistic from an insurance agent that stated Americans use only 20% of what they own.

I thought as I looked around my house… that is true. At the time, my walls were filled with family photos, vintage frames painted and left empty, clocks, shelves and even wall vases with tulips. Okay, maybe I used the clocks, but everything else was for visual pleasure only. Since then, I have repainted my walls which means it all comes down and only a few favorite photos went back up, one clock and one little sconce shelf above the clock.

 

When I have pictures or artwork to hang, I first gather it all together. Then I lay it out on the floor, moving and arranging how it will go on the wall. Sometimes I have my boy hold something against the wall while I stand a room away and see how I like it. (The men in my house have a lot of patience with me.)

Then I just go for it.

Make sure you are using nails with a head on them when using them to hang pictures, use picture hangers for heavier artwork and sometimes use screws with anchors when necessary. The right tools make any job easier and easier to patch holes when you move or if you are like me, change your mind or rearrange.

A wall at J Crew in Pasadena, CA

 

My friend Susan’s house

 

 

 

My friend Susan’s house (again)

My friend Sharyn’s house

My friend Abbie’s house

 

The stairs in my house

 

So what does this have to do with my brother Barry? I came across this picture of the two of us taken in a Kmart photo booth in the 70’s.

I love it. It has hung with the wall of photos I recently took down to repaint. Barry is my older brother and when we were kids, he was my best friend. I thought he was so cool and I would do anything Barry told me to; like steal jaw breakers from the neighborhood convenience store, yell poems like “milk, milk lemonade, stick your finger up your butt, pull it out, whatcha got? tootsie roll is whatcha got!” at neighbors from the bushes and from our camper, make our little sister eat mud or when she really wanted to play with us, tell her she had to be the dog and leave her on the porch all day barking at cars that went by.

We had a neighbor that was a large man who loved his flowers. He would bend over those flowers tending to them with his butt crack hanging out.  One day, my brother told me to take saltine crackers, crumble them in my fists and put them down his pants in that giant butt crack while he, Barry would be the lookout. When Barry yelled at me to go, that the coast was clear, I ran with saltines in my fists. I dumped them in the back of that man’s pants and tore off across the backyard and down the alley and hid under our canoe on the side of the house.

Yes, that was my brother Barry.

So, if you are wondering what to hang on your walls, don’t worry about what the latest trends are or what the designer magazines tell you to hang and whatever you do, don’t hang generic, mass produced “art”. Make sure what’s in your home, on your walls is a reflection of you. Make sure it makes you smile or invokes a special memory whenever you walk by it. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone but you.

 

 

A painting I bought in France at a Brocante

 

What is decorating your walls?