Some kids spend Summer vacation swimming in the Hamptons, supping on seafood at Cape Cod, or beachcombing the shores of Nantucket.  I Summered at my Grandma’s house just off the Capital Beltway in Laurel, Maryland. What these trips lacked in lobster rolls and luxury, they more than made up for in educational opportunities.  We watched subtitled productions of La Boheme on the basement television set; took “behind-the-scenes” tours of the White House with suited Secret Service Agents; and frequented the Smithsonian Museums.

 

While other kids were drawn to the arguably cooler Museum of Natural History, with it’s dinosaur bones, or Air and Space Museum, with its atrium full of suspended flight vehicles, I was charging across the National Mall crying, “Give me Presidential China Patterns and Inaugural Ball Gowns or give me death!”  My Polk lineage even earned us admission to the archives, where we wore tiny white gloves and held the disintegrating lace trim from one of Sarah Childress’s festive frocks.  I learned to love all things early Americana, from a fascination with fashion to an obsession with the architecture and interiors of homes like Mount Vernon and Monticello, including a special affection for painted interior floors.  

 

In the 18th and 19th Centuries, most American homes featured unfinished wood floors made from soft pine. They stained easily and required cleaning with a mixture of water, sand, and, sometimes, wood ash.  Painting the floor boards offered protection from staining and ease of cleaning.  Motifs were simple or elaborate, frequently mimicking more expensive techniques like wood inlay and finer materials like marble.  Skilled itinerant artists often provided these painting services, a craft rendered nearly obsolete by the advent of linoleum.  Fortunately, the 21st century has seen a revival of these skills amongst young artists with a passion for decorative painting.  Last Fall, when I set out to address the decorative challenge presented by our family den, I hoped a painted floor would be part of the solution.  I consulted wood flooring experts and the gospel of Bunny Williams before tackling the task of retaining the right artist.

 

Leah Wright, or “Aunt Leah” to my sons, was raised in a rich family tradition of art and design before studying Fine Arts at Clemson. Dedicating her early career to art education, Leah’s first foray into decorative painting was a mural completed with a group of her middle school students. The experience sparked a previously undiscovered passion and she left the world of education to pursue a career as a muralist.  ​​