2 J'aime Paris!

Those of you who know me may remember when I spent a semester of college living in Paris (in a lovely little apartment with a delightful French family). As Grace Potter sings, "ooh la la la la la la la." Yes, I fell in love with that city, and I think a small (or sometimes not so small) part of me will always want to live there again (although not with the delightful French family next time, and I think I'll require a proper shower as well). Alas, since this is the real world, and I have a real job (which I love), I'll just have to settle for things that remind me of Paris. (Honestly, I'm not complaining; as you can tell from this blog, I've also fallen very much in love with Charleston.) 

As for things that remind me of Paris, art and photographs often top that list. And recently, I stumbled across some great blown-up photographs on canvas at Ross of all places for $9.99 a piece. They've got a bit of a dorm room vibe, but I'm down with that so I scooped 'em up. 

However, my walls are full (very full in fact) so bringing home new art means, yes, you guessed it, moving stuff around. Here's the story. 

I took this little sliver of wall on my upstairs landing, on which I already had a couple of pieces of French art and some awesome framed photo booth snapshots from a dear friend's wedding, and I shook things up a bit.

I moved the above-shown pictures from the sliver of wall to the adjacent wall, which originally looked like this. 

(This is a relatively bare wall for me; that's an old piece of molding with hooks, and hung to the right is a precious portrait of a black and white cat.)

Before I hung anything, I first added an old, oak bench that was looking for a new spot to call home and a basket for my laundry. 

My mom actually picked up this bench at a yard sale, and the story behind it breaks my heart a little bit. The woman who sold it to my mom had tears in her eyes and told my mom that her dollhouse sat on this bench when she was a child, and she'd sit in front of this bench for hours playing. Well, I just hope that this woman (whoever and wherever she is) knows that her bench has gone from one dollhouse lover to another and that it is in very good hands. (Although no dollhouse sits on the bench today, I want her to know that I had two and a half dollhouses as a child: one magnificent one that we bought from a family friend (we're talking wallpaper, shingles, molding, you name it); one very special one that my dad built for me (and that has since been played with and loved by my very precious nieces); and one that we built halfway and then shared with a young neighbor when I started middle high school and grew out of such things. I used to save up my money for months in an old cigar box that a childhood boyfriend gave me, and then I'd go blow it all on dollhouse furniture. And I spent many, many, many hours just sitting in front of my dollhouses and, yes, you guessed it again, moving stuff around. I guess I should have known then what was in store for me.) 

Anyway, back to the story. After I moved the bench and basket to the adjacent wall, I added my new Paris prints to the sliver of wall. I love them; they make me smile at least three times a day.

After I added the Paris prints to the sliver of wall, I sort of randomly added the wedding snapshots and the French poster to the adjacent wall. (The Eiffel Tower painting ended up in my bathroom, where it looks really good, instead of on this wall.)

You can sort of get an idea of what the entire landing looks like now from the picture below. What do you think? I'm sold; I think it's a fun change. Plus, I only made one extra hole in the wall. Remember, I follow the wabi-sabi hanging method so that's much lower than my average extra-hole-in-the-wall rate.

A la prochaine,



Anonymous said...

Your landing lots fab. Sometimes you just have to move your stuff around. You do a great job and I love that you really have great recycled stuff and stuff with tons of meaning. Love your Paris prints. You brouight back wonderful memories of a time when I visited a daughter who was also in Paris studying. We climbed 150 very old and very narrow steps to reach her apt. And then....the view from her window was the Eiffle Tower. Can you imagine? Aren't we fortunate to have these little memories tucked away and be able to move them around in our hearts? kiup



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