I think I have a problem, in fact I know I do. I am addicted. Every place I go, I buy a poster, print or watercolour to go on my wall and now my collection has reached epic proportions. So much so that I don’t have anywhere to put them. Instead, they sit in piles or propped behind my door, wasting their beauty.
It’s something I can’t resist, I just love having mementos from places I have been. Every time I look at my Monet watercolours, it takes me back to Paris and how amazing it felt to look at the water lilies in the Musée de l’Orangerie. My Kandinsky print from the Tate Modern reminds me of the day I walked across the Millennium Bridge from St Paul’s to the wonderfully industrial art space. I have old train company posters of London and Edinburgh I found rifling through a bargain bin in Oxford, and a beautiful watercolour of the Trevi Fountain I bought from a charming little shop in Rome.
It seems too, that now my friends are aware of my problem and are aiding and abetting me. My dear friend just returned from her own European adventure and she so wonderfully brought me back a gift. Not a magnet, not a key ring. But art.
That darling girl bought me art!
It’s a beautiful watercolour from an artist she came across in a Roman square. He would paint anything he saw from his little spot in the square, and the one she gave me is of the lovely shuttered windows with laundry hanging from them.
Now every time I look at it, I’ll think of how she got it for me from Rome, of Rome, of walking through the Roman Forum, of throwing my coins in the Trevi, of crazy Italian drivers, of how much I loved Rome. See, this is why I love collecting art! So many memories.