Home and belonging and beauty

Doesn't this look fabulous??? There is nothing I like more than, well, there are lots of things I like. But design magazines, design and decorating books. Mmm... And being home. And decorating my house. And the whole concept of home. And belonging.

I love beautiful things. I tend to decorate with lots of neutrals. Lots of whites and not too much color. I think color overstimulates me. But I love art. And pictures on my wall. And anywhere else I can fit them. Especially black and white pictures. I don't think i'd have the guts to decorate like this picture. But I love it.

When I graduated from college, I put my French to "great" use by working in an art gallery in Chicago. I helped the owner, who spoke wonderful french but had terrible grammar, translate letters. He would give me his incorrect and somewhat offensive letters. And I would translate them for him. Clean them up. But what I really got from this job was fantastic discounts on art. Really good art. And I made friends with the director of the gallery who also gave me some sweet little finds from the flea markets of Paris. I ate Ramen noodles and hot dogs for years because I spent all my (extremely meager!) salary on art.

Now we are finally in a home. A real home. We have a garage and a basement and a yard. We have been married six years and have rented three places, and bought one condo (what a disaster) and now here. I love our house because it's blue (and doesn't leak). And the previous owners were serial rehabbers and had great taste. But I mostly love it because it's ours. And we have no plans to move. And our boys have their own room. We can mark their years on their doorframes. We can scratch the floors and it's not a reduction in our deposit--it's memories. I'm ridiculously sentimental. Notches on the door frames. Scratches on the floor. I love the whole concept of home, belonging, and the longing for something more permanent, more perfect.

But I digress.

Home. Sigh...