I don't know this woman.
She seemed lost in a moment of free-spirited joy while hanging in this gorgeous massive sprawling ancient oak tree. It's CLEARLY one of those instants of pure escape that we seem to desire more the older we get despite the fact that we seek it out less and less with each passing day. I want to have experienced what must have been an afternoon of pure bliss--sun setting in the afternoon behind a rolling bucolic meadow. Maybe that's why I've put up with her for so long.
This woman has dark hair and wide eyes. Her skin isn't pale but it isn't dark either. With the high contrast of the black and white image, it's nearly impossible to discern if she's black, white, hispanic or some combination of the three. Perhaps she's from some distant future where distinct races no longer exist leaving only homogeneous beings that strangely appeal to all of us in some middle-of-the-road and feux-utopian manner.
Now she's starting to bug me.
BUT...did I mention the photo looks fantastic in this frame? The high contrast image really makes it pop. I'm so glad we own this frame. It's a perfect complementary accessory -- neither a distraction nor a piece that's ignored. When you see it, sitting there on our funky West Elm purchased shelf, you'll surely agree. This woman might piss me off, but I could disturb the balance of our entire living room by removing her enthusiastic smile.
But I hate her. I hate her so much. I don't know this woman! Why is she on our wall?
Oh that's right, because I'm lazy.
So...I finally took the frame off the shelf and replaced the mystery margarine tree-climbing lady with a photograph from the day Liz and I were married. It only took three years, two months, and five days.
Not really sure what inspired me to finally do it, but it certainly felt satisfying to crush that smug little bitch and throw her away.
Am I sure I don't know this woman?
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