Why I Collect Art
The importance of beauty on my walls
Clementine peelings on the floor, a few socks, and a half-broken Lego build. Squeals of laughter and a pillow goes flying across the room. The vintage sofa groans under the strain of the two teenagers and a string bean nine-year-old “not wrestling” on it. And the backdrop to it all?
Walls full of art that they don’t even notice.
Not because it isn’t beautiful.
It is.
But because, whether they know it or not, it’s become theirs; a natural part of their surroundings as commonplace as the clementine peelings on the floor. :)
Twenty years ago, I set out to raise children who would find being surrounded by beautiful things… normal. That meant things like using real glass dishes instead of kiddie dishes, leaving “Momma’s things” on the coffee table instead of childproofing the house, well-crafted furniture, flowers, books (whether read or unread), music in the background, and art.
I expected the occasional broken glass or plate, but as far as the beautiful surroundings? I didn’t expect them to all take to it. Very quickly, children begin to share with you who they are. But, I did expect them to even subconsciously know the difference between mass-produced, landfill-destined wall hangings and pieces made by a fallible human seeking to create beauty.
When they are little, you think it’s going to be very easy. Create a beautiful home = raise little beings that care about all things beautiful. That’s a good ideal, and I think it was good for me to go into motherhood with those rose-colored glasses.
But it’s not that easy.
Our world is screaming for their attention on screens full of twaddle, in ever-advancing technology, in acceptance of the Beigeland mundane, and in celebration of efficiency and utilitarianism, all the while I’m trying to plant and water the seeds of the opposite;
Daydreaming,
Old-school methods,
Time, enjoyment, and the journey in the face of bigger, better, faster.
And so, I hang art.
Art that quietly reminds them (and me) that all good things take time.
Art that whispers that practice will never make perfect, but develops an unshakable discipline for your life.
Art that says God’s creation isn’t sterile walls of confusing geometrical nonsense. God’s creation is awash in texture, color, rhythm, and composition.
I bought my first oil painting with my kids in tow — probably fifteen years ago now, one drizzly overcast morning. We lived for Friday mornings when we’d set out for our weekly garage sale runs, a suburban full of energy and car seats. Them on the hunt for cardboard boxes full of LEGO castaways, and me on the hunt for anything that would remind me of France. Quarters from the couch cushions and snacks in tow, we’d follow those paper plates stapled to the telephone poles anywhere they’d take us. One drizzly Friday morning, after a few “lamos” (as we used to call them), I stumbled upon a garage sale that was like its own little Paris flea market.
I bought everything.
Even today, you can see the little white chair at my makeup table, the shepherdess gypsy lamp over my range, and my first oil painting hanging proudly on my kitchen wall.
Fast forward all those years… we don’t really live in a garage sale community. I guess they are frowned upon during tourist season. But an unexpected life has developed where I travel to Paris twice a year to play the tourist myself… and shop for oil paintings.
My collection has grown and grown, and with my fabulous collection of “no names”, I’ve found some true treasures over the years. On my Paris tours, we call these “Google-able”… i.e., when the artist’s name can be found online via an auction house or Wikipedia page. Sometimes, a market vendor or dealer will have done the research and will have a printed page ready about the artist. Other times, I spend a few hours combing the internet for a signature, backstory, or some other hint to tell me about the artist of a particular piece. Most of the time, nothing can be found about that obscure signature in the lower right or left-hand corner… but sometimes you stumble upon something special, like Charlotte Musson. (You can watch that story here)
The world can be harsh and horrible, and then we make things worse by glorifying the ugly. If I want to protect my kids from the horrors of this world, I also want them to live in a beautiful world.
And selfishly? I want to live in that kind of world, too. So, I create it here, in our Everyday Château; from the gardens, to the music in the background, to the art on the walls.
When I travel to Paris, I bring back more than memories. I bring home fragments of lives lived before us. Brushstrokes from unknown hands. Still lifes painted under dim light. Portraits whose eyes follow you across the room…
And now, I get to offer them to you, too, for your Everyday Château.
If you’re ready to begin your own collection—or simply add a chapter to it—here are five pieces from my most recent trip that I think you’ll love:
Vintage French Landscape Painting – “Morning Along the Seine”
And of course, there’s more where that came from at EverydayChateau.com, or let me help you pick and bargain for your own in April 2026. The April in Paris experiences for 2026 are now LIVE. We started with 8 spots for each trip, and those are already on the move, so grab a friend and reserve yours today.
I’d love to meet you and scour for beautiful treasures!
Comment below if, in the future, you’d like a piece on how to care for your art treasures over the years.
In the meantime — it’s actually our “once a year” garage sale day in our tourism town — I’m headed out. :)
Kids and quarters in tow.
