I have a lot of stuff hanging on my walls.
Not one is in the same frame. Not one is the same size. Not all are flat and square: One is an old bronze serving tray bought at the Pláka in downtown Athens.
My walls are a bit like what you’d expect from a small-town museum. Lots of stuff crammed in a historic high-street building, explaining the origins of the visiting town.
So, the other day, I coined my new house-decorating ‘style’.
I’m calling it: Museum Sentimental.
And I’m all about it.
And I’m just getting started.
There are prints my family collected growing up in England, Greece and America. There are images paying homage to countries I’ve visited. There are paintings done by friends and family members …. there’s even one that I did.
There are photographs of people and places I love.
Some I took then framed:
Some of friends that I framed:
One is of the author of 84 Charing Cross Road, Helena Hanff, whom I never met:
I just adore 84 Charing Cross Road (and the movie). I totally fanboy Helena Hanff’s ability to weave her brash New York moxie into warm funny tales. If I’m ever offered a choice to come back as anyone? Yeah, Ms. Hanff is right up there with the tiki-torch bar owner in Tahiti.
My museum chic style is a combination of old and of recent. Serious and quirky. I think that’s important. It’s also very me.
Surprisingly, and easily debatable, rather than making this poor wee cottage seem stuffed, these wall gems have opened up the rooms.
I can only guess it’s because they are drawing the eye vertically and horizontally up and down the rooms? Not sure, I’m definitely not spatially trained. I just know this single-floor house now has height and depth.
And whilst there will never be a Delcroix horse or Rembrandt face hanging in my collection, the walls in my place are giving me reason to pause as I pass, notice a detail I hadn’t seen before, and reflect its new message.
Just like all good cultural centres do.
Bonus is that this museum never closes.