Living Art

Growing up in the living quarters of an art gallery is the norm for my girls.  They know how to gloss a crowd, offer wine to the grown ups, eat brie and grapes for dinner, pillage purses for makeup, and slip into the comforts of our home when needed.  This door is all that separates us from the gallery side of Drew's business:

Once a month the gallery looks like this, which warrants a late party night for my tots:

And they know how to party.  Like mother like daughter.  Except I don't break dance in the middle of the floor and gallop in circles like they do.

Berit, gallery manager extraordinaire, took all of these photos.  I was too busy talking to friends and protecting fine art from child-induced destruction.

Here's my favorite photo of the evening taken of my yard from the gallery:

A beautiful evening inside and out.