The art on our walls
A crooked gallery of family heirlooms, flea finds, and tapestries that all add up to a life together
A month and a half ago, my fiancé and I moved in together, ending my nine-year streak of living alone and beginning my first-ever experience of cohabiting with a partner.
Sometimes I can’t believe I made it to 35 without ever living with a partner, especially in NYC, where most of my friends have cohabited with one or two by now. But I love that my first time is with Jack, the man I’m going to marry. It feels just right.
There was no, “Oh no, my independence! What about my meditation routine?” I was so ready to blend and mold, to acclimate, to trade in the quiet slowness for the joy and lessons of a shared space. I’d fully explored my singlehood.
I love the life we’re building together. We’re on the top floor, and, when we’re out of town, I can’t wait to get back home, and not just because it’s where we’re beginning our life together, but for its light, its view, and the way our belongings have melded into one space.
Our move-in was seamless. Jack, a natural minimalist, held onto a few meaningful family heirlooms that I was thrilled to weave into our new home. He let me take the lead on what came with us and what we left behind. When we first met, his art was all on the floor, leaning up against the walls. I loved that; to me it meant he needed a lady’s touch. And soon enough, we were creating a new home together.
We hung the art last, letting ourselves live in the space first. We haven’t had to buy anything new; some of our art is in storage for a bigger place down the line. For now, our walls hold a mix of meaningful, history-rich pieces from both our families and the years before we met, including a serendipitous painting with a backstory I still can’t believe.
I’ve never spent more than $750 on a piece—the priciest being the framing of my BFGF tapestry. I believe the best wall art carries a story, a place close to your heart, a memory, or simply an image that makes your heart sing. It doesn’t need a hefty price tag, though sometimes that’s warranted.
I hope the peek into some of our art sparks some inspiration for your own.
Our 47x55” BFGF tapestry, framed at Framebridge
The piece that draws the most curiosity is a large tapestry by BFGF, which I had framed a few years ago at Framebridge.
I love BFGF’s art, and getting her tapestry blanket framed was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It’s a great conversation starter, which all art should be.
If memory serves me correctly, I paid around $700 for the framing. I chose to skip plexiglass, not only to keep it lighter but also to let the natural fibers and texture come forward. I’m so glad I did. Framing can be expensive, but Framebridge did a beautiful job and it was worth every penny.
The portrait wall
Centered above our 43” Samsung Frame hangs a portrait with a remarkable backstory: that’s Jack’s late grandfather, Jack, painted by my late grandmother Roz. She painted it in 2022, one of her final works before she passed, three years before Jack and I met. My family had known his aunt for decades, just one of the many ways Jack and I were connected before we even knew it. Then, this summer at a cousin’s wedding, Jack’s aunt handed the portrait to us, complete with a beautiful note on the back. I cried on the spot. It felt like familiarity, lineage, and love that had been quietly there all along, just waiting to show itself. To the left is another painting by my grandmother Roz, of the Maine coast; to the right, one of the Shelter Island farm and estate where I spent a summer.
A love for Vermont
Jack and I both grew up skiing on the same small mountain in Vermont; it’s a special place for both of us. The two Vermont pieces hang close, but not so close that it feels overly curated. The one on the right reads, “The Vermont Evening News: Hello. Nuthin’ happened in Vermont again today-goodnight.”
Magic marker at Melrose Flea
On my first trip back to LA in 2022, I found myself standing in the Melrose Flea ticketing line in front of FKA Twigs. Once on the grounds, I came across a beautiful piece of art from a very nice man and bought it on the spot for $22. I can’t tell what I like better, the frame or the art? It was drawn with a magic marker, but miraculously hasn’t faded one bit. It was a pain to get home; I had to carry shoes in my hands to make it fit, but I feel a flutter in my belly every time I see this art, it just makes me so happy.
The classics: landscape and still life
A few years ago, I went crazy on Kaiyo (now closed, but AptDeco is a close second for used furniture) and hunted for a few large, heavy, old-world anchor pieces that feel timeless, moody, and grounding. They came in big old frames that had dust on them when they arrived, adding to their allure. They make me feel like I’m living in a castle or a 19th-century Dutch home. No matter how freshly painted the walls may be, I feel a connection to the past.
I’ll see you Friday for a note on rituals, where I’ll be talking all about yoga for the face. Have a great rest of your week, everyone!
