Thursday, September 8, 2011
Ken and I recently went to a free Dr. Dog concert with Law and Brendo overlooking the Delaware River.
The view was priceless.
And so was the People-watching.
There were premies, preppies, braided-heads and baby-boomers all so texturally-inspiring to the landscape and to my design ideas. I really wanted to go out and find a tapestry somewhere and hang it up real hard and proud-like as soon as I got home.
While we watched the band play, a glow-in-the-dark-hula-hooper crushed it on the dance floor (all while wearing ivory lace culottes). Law and I got talking about how beautiful it was to see men and women of all ages and passions begin to feel more comfortable representing their soul and ambition and history and envy through their attire.
I'm happy to see people collectively moving that principle into their homes, too.
My mom has really been onto just that something for such a long time, but it wasn't until I moved out of her house did I miss or appreciate it so much.
I love walking in to someone's house and feeling like I'm inside their head.
(Unless they're scary, and then that's creepy, but still interesting all the same.)
I think that not only should one's home be their sanctuary, but a telling tapestry of themselves, too.