Read Me.

I love typography. I always have. Maybe it's the years of writing thank you notes when I was a child, maybe it's my years of art training, maybe it's that I secretly hope having letters and type everywhere around the house is a subliminal reminder to my family that they should be reading. I don't know, but I love it.

If something can be monogrammed, I monogram it.

I collect vintage letters.

I've watched the movie Helvetica three times now. I want to buy the DVD just because I love the cover.

I just bought the new Taschen book "A Visual History of Typefaces and Graphic Styles" because it's beautiful, and because it comes with a code that allows its owner to download 1000 new fonts to use. Heaven!

So when I noticed this trend in graphic design lately, I felt I had finally found a style of art that spoke to me (see post "Art Shmart" for context):

If you'd like to display your art and boss your children around at the same time, good resources I've found for this type of art are Keep Calm Gallery (thanks, Melanie, for the tip!), Concrete Hermit, Typographic Posters. Go wild. You may even find one that says "I'm not going to tell you again: clean your room."

Maria Callas Is My Soulmate

I'm lucky to have one of those jobs that lists "getting inspired" as part of the job description, and occasionally I just hand an entire day over to the idea of inspiration. Friday was one of those days.

My friend Christopher prepared an agenda of 25 inspiring places to visit, starting with the San Francisco Flower Market, and ending with a warehouse full of french antiques that used rickety old shelving as it's only merchandising technique. In between there were approximately 25 other visits around the city of San Francisco. As Christopher, Pallavi and I traipsed across the city and back (and then back again) we saw beautiful things, met interesting people, and ate delicious food (like the cappuccino and apricot/anise donut at Four Barrel that got our day started).

As I search for ideas that I can apply to my daily work, I always keep a corner of my mind open for ideas that I can apply to my home, or things my family would like. Friday was a good day for that. For example:

Start your day with flowers if you can. It makes everyone happy.

Even the most utilitarian corner of your house can be beautiful. I've never seen packets of Equal look so pretty.

If it's meaningful to you and your family, it's art.

Everyone works better after taking a break for some ice cream.

Remember and share the stories of the things in your house. These guys could have talked for hours about each of the products in their shop. That's one of the big differences between visiting a chain store and visiting a small privately owned store. And it's one of the big differences between a model home and a warm and comfortable family home that's been built over a lifetime.

Old and beat up is OK. Just like with people, the richness of life experience can show in the things you choose for your home. My red leather chairs aren't worn out, they're wise and experienced.

If you've got a skill or talent in your family's history, keep it alive. One store we visited, The Parish Trust, dedicates its existence to collecting and curating antiques from dead and dying industries. The store was a treasure trove of manual typewriters, vintage cameras, and other items my children might not even recognize in twenty years.

And last, in case I or anyone in my house has forgotten:

Resolution #1: Update my family gallery wall

The last time I did my family gallery wall, I was still pregnant with Katie, who's now six. My children are suspended in time, and anyone visiting my house would think they're 8, 5, and a newborn. Regular Suburban Zen readers know that's not the case.

One reason I haven't updated the wall is that I love looking at the old pictures of each of the Furber kids -- I remember precisely when and where each one was taken, and what else happened that day:

• The picture my friend Erin took at her house in Olympia -- Jack was wearing Andie's pants because he'd taken a dip in the bay in his own and needed a change.


• The Christmas card picture from the year Katie was born. Andie edited the film and picked the picture because her hair looked the best in that one.


• The picture of Jack on his first day of Kindergarten -- he asked me right before school "Mom, what's the best way to meet friends?"


• The picture of JP and I on our honeymoon kissing in the front of a catamaran.

Every time I think I'm going to update those pictures, I can't decide which I can bear to take down. I've decided instead that I'll just add to the wall until it's completely full. Now I can add the new pictures I've been meaning to add, like this one:

without retiring any of my favorites.

And Dad, remember the shot of us with the Elvis statue at the House of Blues? That's going on the wall too.

#23 Update the Gallery Wall for the Season

Like all families, we generate lots of art. I especially like the Christmas art that comes home each year. My favorite is the reindeer made with Andie's foot as the head and her hands as the antlers. Art like that has to see the light of day at least once a year, so we update our gallery wall for the holidays by putting two or three of our favorite pieces of the kids' art into the frames. No need to buy new frames, just temporarily bench a few photos, slide in some cute holiday art, and you're done in 20 minutes.

Art in the Everyday

My friend Brian Andriola just did a great article for Country Living magazine all about his collection of white bowls.


The article, and the images that came with it reminded me that everyday objects can be the most beautiful things in my home. I remember when I was growing up, my Mom had very few decorative things in the house, but always had very beautiful baskets that she displayed throughout the house, hung on the walls in place of art, and used for storage. Now I understand why -- with kids crashing through the house 24/7, unbreakable accessories are a good idea. After 13 years of kids in the house, and 13 years of addressing new and various organizing challenges, I've accidently built quite a beautiful basket collection of my own.
I've got painted french wire that I acquired on a trip to London

Vintage fishing creels collected from Sun Valley

Several laundry baskets purchased in my quest to find the perfect size and shape

African Wedding Baskets that were some of the first decorative objects I bought when we moved into our house

Willow trunks that have held anything from toys to baby clothes, to bike helmets in the garage

Some metal boxes and vintage suitcases that have been with us since the very early days of our marriage

A garden trug I purchased at the Paris Flea Market


Katie and I will be spending this rainy Saturday afternoon trying to make sense of it all. Thanks, Brian for the inspiration. And drop by if you've got a minute.