A Wall of a Different Color
I have a fascination with gallery walls. Maybe because I’m such a visual person. Or maybe because they’re just so fascinating. (This one is not mine, but I find it very appealing!)
A gallery wall is a glimpse into the personality of the person who curates it, assembles it, worries over it, revels in its charm and beauty.
My office is the perfect place to put one together. I spend a lot of time in there and it’s nice to be surrounded by things that bring me joy.
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I’ve started a box to collect potential additions to this particular wall. I want to be inspired by what surrounds me in my (sometimes) fortress of solitude.
Each of these pieces hold some kind of significance for me. Each represents an emotion, a connection, a revelation, a memory, a truth.
I have a box of frames I’ve collected over the years. Many of these pieces will end up in those frames and on my wall.
This wall will hold snippets of my past, the building blocks of who I am and who I want to be, what I aspire to.
Inspiration.
Love.
It represents people I love and places I love, words to live by and dreams and aspirations, a thousand conversations and a thousand yet to come.
My heart and soul on display.
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I love gallery walls. They really do speak to the person you are inside, giving others a glimpse into the complexity of your personality. Our sister’s entire house is a gallery wall. She told me once that she called it the “Lou-seum” because of all the art work of mine that was in her home. I can’t wait for the day when I put up my own gallery wall.
I love the juxtaposition-ing of color and texture and feeling and memory and time and space. Marcie indeed has a great eye for the gallery wall…I hope to find that I have a bit of talent for it too! It’ll be great for you! If you can’t find just the right piece, you can make it!
I love this writing. I have so many things that mean a great deal to me. I really don’t have a gallery wall inside my house except for a hallway of many family members going all the way back to my great parents in black and white photos. Another gallery wall is not on the wall per say but in a huge curio cabinet holding a lot of my grandmother and mother’s things and a few of mine. The true gallery wall would be in my garage. It is a conglomeration of sports flags and sports and Olympic memorabilia, sports art work, AB stuff, my mother and daddy’s last car tag, etc. I love my gallery wall in the garage. I love it and it is just stuff that means nothing to anyone but me. It’s the parts of my life I have loved and enjoy the most and still continue to enjoy. I will have to send you some pictures. Thank you again for this posts and your writing.
I’d love to see a picture! Don’t you just love to sit in the garage sometimes and let the feeling of the wall wash over you? I think having the things we love displayed like that keeps the memories, the feelings, and the love alive in our life. Kudos to you!
I’m just here to say I am zero percent surprised by the gallery-wall-love in your family. I mean, think about it. Even before your folks had the lovely kitchen addition, y’all were drawing on the walls of the playroom it replaced. And then, once the kitchen was there, you drew on the walls going down to the basement. And the long wall in the kitchen… was one big gallery wall! Your gallery wall spirit runs deep! 🙂
You’re absolutely right! Life lived as a gallery wall… ❤
I love that you remember that!
When our family lived on Center Street, it was in a two story 1890s Victorian, with mostly original walls – layers of wall paper over the horsehair plaster mushed into horizontal lathing, with its “keys” keeping it mostly in place. It’s hard to beat that base when adding anything to it – and it was such fun to make a gallery wall. one of the first items on it: an outside slice of a burled tree stump we’d picked up in Allegany State Park, the Red House section. And, it did look just like a whole tree! Rather than ‘hanging’ it with the usual hardware, I nestled the burl inbetween three nails to keep it in place. Then, added to that centerpiece – old – very old bronze / brass hardware from very old doors no longer in place. Someone before us had removed the pocket doors separating the ‘parlor’ from the main living room. The pocket doors must have been dismantled – they were nowhere to be found. Other memorabilia on the wall – snapshot sized family photos – me in 2nd grade; my mom with her “I’m the Best” t-shirt, a photo of my son sitting on the sand next to Otsego Lake. . . wonderful stuff to see, every day. Those memories encompass 1972-1998. Some pieces – passed on to others with old Victorian homes needing hardware, some becoming fodder for the back yard fireplace and most of the others now on the current walls. In THIS house? almost all the walls are covered with artwork, photographs or framed ‘stuff’. Still soul satisfying!!
Aunt Judy, I love that! It’s one of the best feelings to be surrounded by things we love and pieces that hold special memories for us! I love that you’ve carried that throughout your life! Much love to you…c ❤❤❤