Freak-ness Framed.

I think I've mentioned before when it comes to my home I have color commitment issues. Really. Everything on the entire first floor is either brown, black, white or tan. Oh. Or gray. Gray's kinda new.

I'm pretty sure I can no longer handle color because I've shamelessly used them all. I had a orange accent wall at one point, for heaven's sake.

I'm a freak and need a neutral background. If I have a neutral background everything added to it matches.

Someone comes into my living room wearing a chartreuse sweater? Bada bing, beautiful. She becomes an accent color. Tabby wants a party with purple and yellow balloons? No problem. The pictures will still look okay because tan walls provide a great backdrop to the tackiness that is lilac latex.

I'm a freak. And I'm okay with that.

So why am I mentioning it again? Well, even though I can't have color in my home, I absolutely love texture.

Texture. Texture. Texture. I love furry accent pieces. I love loud prints. I adore shinny finishes, and raw finishes and anything that looks like it has a history.

So when I was looking for something to fill the large frames on my living room wall, I was nervous that doing something two dimensional and void of color wasn't going to provide the texture the room needs.

I got out my trusty camera and started snapping pictures of things I love: fabrics, the dock by our lake, rocks, sticks, (shocker!) driftwood and letters on signs.

I finally settled on pics of the typewriter I scored at a garage sale last year. I sent the files to Walgreens via the world wide interweb and had them enlarged into posters.

These are the three shots that made the cut:

I was literally dancing around as Thad hung them on the wall. And maybe I was clapping my hands together really fast.

And perhaps I have walked through that room roughly 28 times in the last hour just to make sure I still love them.

I'm a freak. And I'm okay with that.