When I moved into the garage in high school, I had acres of wall-space to fill with stickers and labels and magazine cut-outs and photos and baseball caps. In college, I took pieces of my real estate with me, along with a huge ball of blue fun-tac. The notes and inspirational phrases mixed in with movie and concert tickets, an enormous Matt Damon face, and photos of drunken nights and new friends.
When I said goodbye to my last roommate here on Magnolia, I decided that everything on my walls would be framed. With a few precious exceptions, my current wall space is a black-framed, almost-a-grown-up collection of museum exhibit posters, drawings, and enlarged photos from my almost-a-grown-up international travels.
Today, that real estate got another piece - thanks to my bacon-loving compadres - a reminder of my love for the irresistible pork belly and its ability to transform everything from figs to scallops to a joyful bite. I'm hanging it near the menorah, cause that's funny.
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