Sister, Sister

It's official; my sister has finally moved in! This sibling co-habitating arrangement should be pretty seamless since we shared a bedroom for most of our lives - we go way back to bunk beds. When we decided that moving in together would be the best situation for both of us at this point in our lives, we spent a few months pounding the pavement in search of a new place. However, the rental scene in New York City is not for the faint of heart and ultimately it wasn't the right time to move somewhere completely new. So here we are on April 1st, calling 93rd Street home (the third year in a row for me) and I couldn't be happier about it.

Kerry's room

My sister has so much crap many things, that my brother Matt enlisted the help of his brave friend Ben for the move. Brave may seem dramatic, but schlepping hefty Ikea furniture (and endless boxes of shoes) up five flights of stairs can be daunting. I think the most frustrating part of the move was finding a spot to park the U-Haul. My Dad and I circled the block well over five times before getting lucky with an open spot. Once we got the parking squared away, we did come up with an effective plan of action; one person stood on each floor landing, while we worked assembly-line style. Only walking up one or two flights at a time saved us all much needed energy.

One of my favorite aspects of moving into a new apartment is decorating. My sister has been buying new furniture and artwork for her room, and yesterday I joined her. We took a trip to Ikea with my friend Amanda, where I spent $100 in the blink of an eye (I'm waiting for you tax return check). I don't feel too guilty though, because I have been wanting to buy something to hang on the one wall in my living room that's been bare for over a year.

Enchanted Tales (click to get a better glimpse)

I am in love with this paper cuts design - my sister thinks it looks like something one would find in Amish Country. While she may not be entirely mistaken, I like to think it looks like potential album art for the Fleet Foxes. I mean, there is a cute little peasant guy playing the flute in a tree here.

Cosmos 3

This poster was more of an impulse buy, but I was drawn to the vibrant colors and think it spruces up the hallway. The dark brown frames were purchased at Ikea for around $20 each.

Alvine Flora

I also bought a floral throw pillow for the couch; to up the room's coziness factor. I don't know if this is the little old lady in me speaking, but I love embroidered pillows ... and throw blankets.

As the year unfolds, I'm sure I will have plenty to write about when it comes to living with my sister. Most likely, we'll argue about utterly ridiculous stuff and then decide everything's fine and immediately watch an episode of Will & Grace. I had to chuckle when we were moving all of her boxes out of my parent's house and our neighbor yelled over to my Mom, "So you're losing another one?" Without missing a beat, my Mom motioned to my brother and lovingly yelled back, "Two down and one to go."

Edgar Degas: Dancers at the Barre

Degas' Dancers at the Barre: Point and Counterpoint, an exhibit featuring more than 30 works by celebrated French artist Edgar Degas, is currently on display at the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C. Degas created 1,500 pieces focused solely on dancers - most notably ballerinas from the Paris Opera in the late 19th century - one of the reasons I love his work. While I've always thought Degas' paintings were extremely beautiful, I never knew much about Degas himself.

Self-Portrait, 1886

The artist was a perfectionist and witty, although a recluse. What's remarkable about his career, was that he, an un-married, male artist, was allowed backstage, to rehearsals and even to dressing rooms in the opera - to quietly sketch the goings-on. Apparently, it was entirely commonplace for "subscribers" to have such access during that time. How incredible that would be today!

The Dance Class, 1873

His drawings and paintings made the mundane profound. (A reprint of) his 1875 oil on canvas La Classe de Danse hung in my grandma's spare room throughout my entire childhood. Back then, taking dance classes myself, I would stare at the painting and wish I was one of the ballerinas warming up in that studio. Degas' paintings chronicled the stretching, warming up and rehearsing of dance, almost never the performance of. These every day, fundamental dancers' rituals were made just as enticing, if not more, than the performance itself.

La Classe de Danse, 1873-75

When my grandma moved to New Jersey a few years ago, I was bequeathed La Classe de Danse, which now hangs in my hallway. I can't count how many times I've stared at the painting and wondered what the girl sitting on the piano was scratching at behind her, or what the dance instructor (if that's who he is) is telling his dancers, or how a cute little pup was allowed in the dance studio. It's a rich, lovely painting, and while simple in subject, very intricate in detail.

I'm afraid a trip to D.C. is not in my near future, so I won't make it to the exhibit, but here's hoping it travels to New York! NPR featured an enlightening article in its Arts & Life section detailing the exhibit (and Degas) if you're interested in further reading. The exhibit runs through January.