We are both a little overwhelmed by the reception we have had with our attempt at a house tour. It’s a combination of flattering and Scarry-As-Hell to discover that pictures of our house have been copied and posted on other sites. Check out Houzz, Pinterest, Color Outside The Lines, and Alamodeus. Now I’m talking about the pictures OTHER people have posted……(clears throat) not just us,(clears throat… again)

We just hope that we can live up to all the expectations……

Now something we really didn’t expect …..was all the questions about our giant Indian canvas in the den.

Cher, here’s a better shot just for you.

 He is Chief Sitting Bear by the famed American photographer Edward Sheriff Curtis…..Seen here…..

One of my all time favorite photographers….and I really dig his sweet stache and choice of headwear.

Curtis spent his life photographing the native American people. Originally financed by J P Morgan who produced a 20 volume set with over 1,500 photos titled “The North American Indian”. Curtis’ goal was not just to photograph, but to document, as much American Indian (Native American) traditional life as possible before that way of life completely disappeared. He took over 40,000 photographic images from over 80 tribes in the difficult gravure process that gave the sepia photos an almost 3 dimensional quality. Curtis also wrote biographical sketches of tribal leaders, and his material, in most cases, is the only recorded history of that tribe. He is also credited with producing almost 10,000 audio recordings of native speech and song.

He was often harshly criticised for removing modern items, like clocks and umbrellas, from photos and for stereotyping his subjects by posing them in costumes. Ultimately, his opus took twenty-five years to complete, bankrupting him and draining himself both physically and emotionally. Curtis eventually lost the bulk of his Native American negatives to his wife in a divorce settlement, most of which he destroyed rather than give up to her. Lecturing extensively to solicit financial support for his work led him to a nervous breakdown in 1930. He died almost penny-less at his daughter’s house in 1952 with a majority of his documentation not even seen by public eyes – until its discovery in a Boston basement in 1972.

Now you can buy his images printed on nylon scrim at Ikea.

Just like we did a few years ago.