After my shift at the day job, I come home and do work for 2nd job with help from my lovely assistant, Midge Pie the Cartoon Dog. In short, I unwrap collectibles/treasures, photograph them, and then measure, weigh, and write product descriptions. Over and over.
Eight more to go before this work day is officially done. Then, folks, I will have myself a nice Jameson on the rocks.

Piles of work behind me.

Helping.

Photo by Tate Gunnerson
Read about my new super hero name on Strangeclosets.com. In the post, you’ll see more photos of the changes that I made after my big decor de-mucking.
In other news, rye toast is very delicious.
A few months back, Backgarage.com took photos of my apartment as part of their At Home series. I was pretty happy with the space then. Proud even. But, here’s the thing, much has changed in my home since those photos were taken. I’ve posted about some of the changes here, but never really got to the why.
So, what happened? Did I suddenly realize I was sick of orange? Bored with retro kitsch? Had ants in my pants?
All of the above.
I was totally over orange and retro, but it’s really more than that — it’s mostly the ants in the pants. I needed a big change. See, after 10 years in Chicago, I’ve become used to moving every 2 years or so. Moving automatically gives you a fresh start — a chance to chuck it all and start anew. So, what happens when that stops? When the plan is not to move until some huge reason makes it necessary?
You get stuck in design muck is what happens.
Like thinking I had to keep the giant Danish Mod orange couch forever, even though the color and heft of it made me angry. Or that certain foundation pieces were forever nailed to the floor or walls. Once I realized all that stuff wasn’t true, I sold my orange couch and club chairs. I sold an orange Eames shell chair. I took the bold (and orange!) retro sheers off the kitchen window.
Even without the catalyst for design change (moving), I was able to make my space feel like a new one by realizing nothing is permanent and then decorated accordingly.
Duh, right? How about some photographic evidence?
Kitchen window before (photo by Katherine Raz)

Kitchen window after (photo by me)

My friend, Ray, wrote to me a couple of weeks ago asking to set up a trade. He wanted an item from my Etsy shop and offered to do a small carpentry/restoration project for me in exchange.
After pondering for a moment, I remembered this tool board from a tour of Derrick Cruz’s studio on The Selby. So, I gave Ray some specs and the photo.
Luckily, with the bare minimum of instructions, he said he could totally tackle the project. He got a piece of antique salvaged wood in the perfect shade and some magnets and well…how about I let the photos do the talking because I don’t know much of anything about making magnet boards.

Magnet board with my collection of old skeleton keys, vintage rail ties, rusty drill bits, and the pine cone off a broken cuckoo clock. Eventually, I want to hang this sucker on the wall.


Medium
So, the seance was not successful in terms of connecting with any one on the other side. Although, it was an interesting process that lead to the party goers sharing ghost stories and such. Then we played charades!

Recently, I spent a few days in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It’s home to Jacuzzis for 2, haunted hotels, and quaint bed n’ breakfasts that serve you 3 courses of the heaviest, most delicious morning chow ever.
I was there for a wedding and it was very nice and all, but I must say that one of the highlights of my time in spooky Springs was a visit to an antiques mall. It was stuffed (har) with taxidermy, people.
I ended up picking up a skull, which will be available at The Vintage Bazaar in February, actually. I wish I could have picked up the two guys in the last photo of this post. They are gorgeous specimens and their faces! Even my Mom commented on how serene they looked. But, alas, I wasn’t able to afford either of them.
Speaking of ghosts, my Aunt rented a mansion for the wedding party and said she saw a ghost plain as day standing on the stairs to the attic bedrooms on the night before the wedding. I wonder if he just wanted some of the leftover pizza from the rehearsal dinner?
Maybe he’ll come to the séance!



















