Empty frame

I have an empty white frame hung above my stove. It’s a small frame – I have no idea of the actual dimensions but it’s something like 4X8 or 4X10. It’s a rectangle.
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In our first house it was hung in our bathroom and my dad would always make the comment about how much he loved that picture above our toilet every time he used the bathroom. Oh Ha-Ha-Ho-He-Ha!
The glass isn’t even clean, the whole thing is old and you guessed it, I bought it at an antique store. It’s a little shabby chic. When we moved it to this house I kept trying out different places on the walls in different rooms to hang it because it never crossed my mind to not use it. I don’t know why I love this frame. I don’t really stare at it when I’m cooking although I’m sure I must look at it about 12 times in any given day. It’s just there.
But when I do look at it, stare at it consciously – I feel hopeful. Maybe I’d feel hopeful looking in to any empty frame but it feels good to look at something and see nothing.

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