My girlfriend took up painting recently, and it’s only in the last couple of weeks that she’s started to share her work with me. I want to take some credit for her new artistic pursuit because I suggested we paint on our second date. She still has that painting on her wall.
A couple of days ago, she brought over a few of her paintings for me to keep. Tonight, we went and got frames for a couple of them and then hung them on the wall in the bedroom. They add a bit of life to the room.
I think it took me four years to hang anything on the walls of my apartment when I lived in Midtown Toronto. I put up a clock. That clock was the first thing I put up when I moved into this place. I also hung up three of my own paintings. Other than that, there’s nothing on the walls.
No, wait, I put up a picture in the bathroom.
There is something quite nice about having pictures hanging. The place feels less grey, less bland, more gently dramatic. There’s life emanating. Already, the bedroom feels less square and boxy. The straight walls have been rounded out and softened.
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