My father used to buy catchy pieces of street-art. Scupltures, pottery, wall paintings etc. Also our garden had quite a few flowering plants. When I recollect my quiet days while growing up, I clearly remember days when I would analyze a flowers petal arrangement or try to understand how beautiful the shades in a painting are, or arrange/rearrange flowers in a vase.
They were basically days when I slowed down and stopped to admire beauty.
To mimic a similar experience, I bought some pots, paintings today. I must say I'm feeling a bit peaceful. Every time i look at my desk, even on a Monday mornimg after a long weekend.
