Maybe it was five years ago when my brother and his wife got me this print for Christmas. I forget who the artist is, but I remember that the name of it is "Master Bedroom." At the time I was fostering greyhounds. I didn't have this apartment. I didn't have Fannie. I didn't have Zach. Actually, I think that at that point my bed was a mattress on a floor. And I find it just correct that this is what I see every morning now.