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.  :)


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