Many years ago, before Cole was born, Matt and I became interested in adding some art work to our house (the walls were pretty bare.) We went to an art show at the convention center and purchased a few pieces but over all felt like it was a pretty random process. I guess nothing truly tickled our fancy. I was disappointed not to find anything I liked enough to pay for and Matt took it in the direction that an engineer would. He decided that all the work at the show was overpriced and that there was a better way. So he got on Ebay and started browsing art. I was a little appalled at this and refused to participate actively. However, Matt would ask me if I liked a particular piece that he liked and that helped him narrow down the choices. He ended up ordering a couple of pieces for several hundred dollars and those pieces have been hanging in our house ever since.

Last night we had Summer’s 9th birthday party. One of the dads comes to pick up his daughter, but he gives her a few more minutes to play. He is standing in the foyer, looking at one of the paintings that Matt bought on Ebay, which sits high up on the second floor niche. It’s a large painting that I never liked. It is an abstract swirl of primary colors that I never liked. This man, who I’ve only just met when he dropped his daughter off at the beginning of the party, starts making conversation about what the painting looks like to him. Of course, this brings Matt right to the front of my mind, and I realize that as much as I did not like the painting when he bought it, I have never minded it being in the house and now I don’t even remember why I disliked it. I also don’t remember ever having thought about what it makes me think of. Of course, now it makes me think of Matt and I kind of like it.