On Perfectionism and Picture-Hanging
My in-laws celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary this summer, so we had family portraits done to celebrate. There are fifteen of us: my in-laws (2), their children (3), their spouses (3), and the grandchildren (7).
We did all kinds of group shots: the in-laws, the individual families, just the children, the children and their grandparents, the in-laws and their children, and the monster group shot. I ordered a bunch of prints; mostly 5x7s, but a few 8x10s too. And those pictures have been sitting in an envelope since July.
This morning, I decided I had waited long enough. It was time to frame those pictures and get them on the wall! Addie and I took a trip to Michael’s and Target, picked up enough frames for all the prints, and headed back home. While Addie napped, I cleaned the glass, framed the pictures, planned a layout, and hung them on the wall.
Well, let me show you why I rarely hang things on the wall by myself.
I am a perfectionist. And that is not perfect. :)
The picture grouping on the wall looks nothing like the layout I had planned on the floor.
The crazy thing? I’m okay with the way it looks. Those pictures are on the wall, where they belong–not stuck in an envelope, or in a box, or on the computer.
I’ll get a few more frames for those empty corners, display a few more shots, and enjoy the smiling faces of my family every time I see that wall.
And that’s a good thing. Cause here’s the view from my desk:
There is no such thing as perfect. :)