A Gateway to the World

Your wall art should define who you are as an individual. When I first moved out into my own apartment, I was very choosy with my wall art and chose pieces (on sale, of course) that made me look like a Real Adult.  “Wow, I feel like I’m in an adult’s apartment,” a friend said once when visiting. And that’s dandy, until you realize that the art on your wall doesn’t really represent who you are, but the image of yourself you want to project to your visitors. While I had pretty pictures hanging on my wall, I can’t say my personality was really reflected in any of them.  It felt artificial and forced.

I still have that same wall art, but I’ve added a lot more pieces now that define me more as a person.  Instead of disconnected images, the pictures have taken on some sort of random cohesiveness.  My love of music is reflected via a painting of a cello, a poster of Dave Grohl, a concert poster of Nirvana, and a Dave Grohl license plate.  My Italian heritage is also honored via wall art – I have several pictures and posters that either depict Italian life or have ltalian words inscribed on them, as well as a beautiful painting that my Zia made hanging on my wall.  And my love of NYC is quite obvious, since I have at least four or five different pictures of the landscape or skyline, as well of a map of Manhattan.

In winter time, as the sunshine fades and the clouds shine dully with its inherent gloominess, I always find myself feeling so nostalgic for things not quite in my grasp – being in New York City again with my cousin, exploring the streets and giggling over how angry everyone looks.

And I miss Italy, especially when I see pictures of my Italian grandmother and see myself in her – the same eyes, the same smile.  She wants me to visit. I have not seen her since I was a child.  But the memories I have of Italy are still so vivid – the beautiful blue of the Mediterranean Sea, seeing the peak of Mt. Vesuvius jutting through the clouds.

When I find myself missing my family, I take comfort in the images in my home.  The posters of my idol allow me to be inspired creatively and musically.  The pictures I have of NYC allow me to dream. And my Italian pictures connect me to the country and family that reside in my heart.

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