This Christmas, I started taking photos of some of the beautiful textiles in my grandmother's home. Then it occurred to me that I don't really have a record of her personal style. Photos taken in her various homes throughout her life have mainly been of people. That's important too, but one of the things I dearly love about my grandma is the way she puts objects together in a room.
The way she'll disguise the ugliness of a heater, for instance, by surrounding it with so many lovely things, you no longer even notice it's there.
I missed the opportunity to record her decorative style with the gorgeous house she and my grandpa had when I was growing up. I've missed it with the smaller house they moved to when the old place became too much to handle. I'm left with the tiny flat she lives in now that she's a widow and 91 years old.
But it still speaks so strongly of her and her unique aesthetic. I look at what she does, and I see love.
