Map Addiction

Maps mesmerize me. And I’ve always had an uncanny sense of direction. (Due in NO PART to Mom — she still gets turned around, even in her own front yard. She claims it’s all because dad first took her to the farm during a blizzard, so she never got properly grounded.)

So between loving maps, having a good sense of direction, and being prone to backseat carsickness, I’ve always played the role of navigator/shotgun on family trips. (The most stressful of which was in Germany, when I was both having to navigate AND translate. I had a nervous breakdown.)

And I’m always the first to whip out the atlas when someone starts talking about a place I’ve never been.

So when I’m traveling to foreign lands, I not only have my nose in the travel book 24/7, but I also love to seek out antique maps. I got a great one in Paris three years ago, and then a couple really neat ones in Rome in December.

(After the art market experience in Rome, I think Jenn is addicted, too.)

Jenn at art market

Today I finally got around to getting the ones from Rome framed. Jenn and I returned to our favorite gallery (Slaymaker) and our favorite gallery manager (Greg) to get assistance. We spent over two hours looking through all the frame and mat options, and finally we made our choices. And we got to catch up on new art in the gallery, since we hadn’t been there for a couple months.

I left poor, but in bliss. My maps are going to be damn cool.

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