I'm a wife, an artist, and a lover of dogs, rock music, and abstract art. I'm a Virginia girl with equal love for California sun and New York grunge. 
I see the most beauty in imperfect things. Ripped jeans. Asymmetrical art. Vintage everything. And a photo with a little girt and grain. I love things that are rugged and little bit off the beaten path. 









Happiness in Imperfection



I learned an interesting lesson this week –  there is happiness in imperfection. This past weekend my brother, sister in law, and niece came to visit. All week leading up to the visit I did everything in my power to make the house perfect. Dre & I were determined to fix things that were broken and make our bland dining room into something special. You know, when you have full time jobs, keeping a house clean is not always easy unless you love to clean, which I don’t. Lets be real, I’m a messy person by nature. I blame it on the inner artist. After cleaning all day, EVERYDAY for three days, we decided that the door leading to a our side porch needed to be replaced. Someone, COUGH* COUGH husband* COUGH* decided to chuck a ball for the dog inside the house and broke a window. I still love you Dre! 😉  We went to Home Depot, bought a new door, a saw, and more. After sawing the door, we got it up and then it wouldn’t close. We were swimming in sawdust and exhausted. We finally manually sanded that sucker down and got it working. We still had to paint it.

ImperfectionBesides the door, and cleaning, we decided to paint the dining room because we knew we would be eating in there with family. I bought six samples of paint and literally gave myself a panic attack staring at colors. I polled my friends on which color they would pick and that didn’t help.  Days went by and I continued to stare at the wall. After working myself into a perfection frenzy something came over me and I DIDN’T REALLY CARE. I was OVER IT. I was over trying to create perfection. My mind was a hot mess thinking of the color I needed to choose and the decor to go with it. My family was coming and we had an unfinished door without a door knob and a dining room with paint samples everywhere. I realized something – If my family truly loved me they wouldn’t care & they didn’t. Even the air mattress failed to work and sandwiched my sister in law while she was sleeping (it was kind of funny).


Striving for perfection did nothing for us. It made us tired. We will eventually get our projects done but until then, I’m okay that things aren’t done. I’m fine with the paint on the wall. True happiness is in imperfection.

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