Before I married my husband, Larry, I crawled on all fours across 81 square feet of seamless paper and he towered over me. Pretty remarkable. Larry was a photographer, I was an artist. We were filming a DYI video on how to make your own painted backgrounds to use in photoshoots. Once a week, we’d get together to film one of the six backdrop demonstrations. But with retakes, voiceovers, and other snags it took three times longer to finish. Along this four-month journey, we developed a friendship. Laughing, bantering. He was the best listener I knew.
During the launch party, I drifted alone outside for some fresh air. The inky sky sparkled with stars. When I turned around, I ran into Larry’s chest. Before I could blink, his head was down, and our lips locked. Was it the scotch I tasted that made him act this way, or did he really know what he was doing? Yet, I had more than my share of champagne, too. Out of nowhere, I blurted out: I love you. Then I gasped. I fled in terror. The next day he called. “We’ve gotta talk”, he said. The rest is history. Twenty-eight years ago, my friend became my husband. Remarkable.
Many things can be remarkable. The most remarkable of all for me is art. Any kind of art:
A seascape my Aunt Ruth painted at 88
A photo of the home I grew up in
Pop-art of coconuts because I dream of the Caribbean
My point. All art is remarkable. Get comfortable with art and grab your free guide '8 Reasons Why Art Makes Your Home Remarkable' here.