I've got bored with falling over all the framed artwork in my boxroom.
It was all taken down for various reasons, and stored safely enough.
My sister thought it would be better to have a more minimalist style, and a curator's approach to my favourite works. I thought I might have the walls replastered, and painted before putting it all back. Sensible me. All very well, fine and dandy.
But that isn't going to happen, and I have the lovely special gift poster from 'The Price' just crying out for a frame and a bit of appreciation.
So, Plan B - bugger the badly painted walls, and the dodgy plaster. Just hang everything in a fantastic patchwork effect, this weekend. Why am I denying myself the pleasure of nice things, or the pain of accidentally-hammered fingers?
Oh yes, now I remember... pain and a bit of an aversion to stepladders...
The chances of opening an associated cafe and gift shop are slim, unless the pets fancy running it while I'm at work.
