On my memories, my emotions, and empty walls.
First of all — it's a great idea.
Without them, even the most beautiful apartment can end up looking like a hotel room — nice, but a little soulless.
In my childhood — at my grandmother's, to be precise — the same painting had always hung on the wall.
It shows a rural landscape: a little house by a river, geese, a calm sky.
As a child, I could stare at it for hours.
I was convinced it wasn't fiction — that the house really existed, somewhere in our village.
And I think that's exactly why it fascinated me so much.
If you go to a museum, you probably won't spend hours in front of every single painting.
You look, you move on, you look again.
But at home — oh, that's a completely different story.
You live with the painting hanging over your sofa or in your bedroom.
You pass it every day. Sometimes you glance at it in passing, sometimes you stop and really look.
Over time you know every brushstroke, every detail.
It's no longer just a painting — it's part of your story, your memories, your life.
I was eleven when my mum and I ended up in a painter's studio.
How we got there is a separate story — but one thing was clear: we were going to buy a painting.
I felt very grown-up in that moment.
I chose a winter landscape — cool, calm, in blue and white.
The artist told us, though, that particular painting wasn't for sale, but that he'd paint us a copy — his own "author's version."
He mixed the same colours, painted the same trees, the same snow.
And yet it wasn't the same.
That was my first encounter with the idea that a painting isn't only colour and form, but also an emotion, a moment, an energy that stays inside it.
So how do you choose a painting for your space?
You match the painting to the style of the room, to the wall colour, to the designer's rendering.
That's safe, and logical.
But if the rendering shows an "abstract piece in beige" and you feel something's missing — listen to your gut.
Search for "abstract painting in beige tones," look around, and find something that actually moves you, not just something that matches the sofa.
You have an empty wall calling out for something.
Think about what you want to feel when you look at it every single day.
Calm? Energy? Curiosity?
Let that feeling be your guide.
A painting at home isn't decoration.
It's a point of energy that stirs something in you.
It can't always be explained — just like you can't copy the emotion out of an original.
Let the painting on your wall be a mirror — not just a styling element.
Because the most beautiful home is one where something is alive.


Comments
No comments yet. Be the first!