A place to hang your hat (or art)

I didn’t quite know what to do with this framed piece of art that had been a going away gift from a dear friend, and it was with part intrigue and part sense of duty that I lugged it from Tokyo to my new flat in Paris.

On the first night, I propped it up on the wall, next to my suitcase and a new Ikea mattress that needed another 48 hours before it rolled out straight. The piece added an unexpected and immediate sense of connection to a bare room that didn’t feel like mine yet.

The next morning, I noticed there were some nails sticking out on the walls and promptly tried my gift on all of them, walking in and around the room to examine how it felt from different angles.

A week later, I’m still living out of my suitcase and have no furniture other than a half-constructed bed with a mattress, now flat. With its creaky wooden floor, a fireplace that hasn’t been functional in decades and a darn chandelier, the space is… less foreign. With this guy.