My walls are empty. Not one thing is hanging…no family photos, no favorite poster. All the framed items that have hung on my walls before are leaning against each other on the floor, or stacked on my dining room table.
I realize as I unpack that the children in the frames are not children anymore. In the swirl of moves that have been the last 3 years, I stopped updating. Living life has been the most that I could do…documenting it in frames has become less important.
The posters and artwork that wait for my walls are an indifferent bunch. Some of them still resonate, but most of them remind me of another time, another me.
Another small, brave pile lies on the couch…2 finished quilts that have never been hung on a wall. Though I’ve made art quilts and beaded pieces for the last 4 or 5 years, I’ve never hung one piece. I’ve given several away as gifts, but for one reason or another, I never got around to hanging one up in my own space. This is the challenge.