Dude, my dad is an artist. Not professionally—he’s actually a ridiculously talented math teacher—but both my parents sketched and drew for fun throughout my childhood. They encouraged my interest in art, and I eventually earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts in New York City. I remember being mesmerized watching my mom draw horses and elegant women, while my dad filled pages with abstract shapes, lines, dots and squares. His doodles were intricate and joyful, full of repeating patterns and little surprises.
About a week ago I stood in the framed-photo hallway thinking about him and those drawings and realized I wanted one on the wall to honor the way his art inspired me. I called him and asked if he could photocopy a piece and mail it. Instead, he sent me the original of what he calls his “best drawing ever” — a seventies-style owl sketched in 1972. He had saved it all these years and it showed the sweet, handmade charm of a long-ago era.
I love that my dad named the owl “Owlie.” I’m no stranger to naming ceramic animals and knickknacks, so it felt fitting. The drawing is built from repeating shapes and patterns, which is a hallmark of his work. There are tiny hexagons, layers of soft color and a texture that feels completely authentic to the seventies. It’s delightful to think he created something so on-trend decades before owls became a popular motif again. Everything old is new again, and this piece felt timeless the moment I unrolled it.
Because the original is precious, I didn’t want to frame it and risk damage, so I scanned it and returned the original to my dad. He had once cut the drawing down and matted it on purple paper, and he mentioned he wished he hadn’t altered it. I took the opportunity to digitally restore the sketch to how it likely looked originally, placing it on a clean, white background and gently moving the signature and date so they fit the new composition. The restoration was careful and respectful — just enough to present the work the way it had probably been intended.
After restoring the scan I printed a copy and placed it in a hallway gallery frame that had been holding a less meaningful photo. The framed print cost me nothing, and the impact was immediate. The owl became the focal point of the wall, warming the space with its playful patterns and retro palette. When friends visited, they were drawn to it and asked about its origin. I loved telling them that my father sketched it in 1972 — proud of the connection and the history behind a simple, joyful drawing.
Total spent: $0.
It really makes the whole hallway feel complete.
We get a kick out of Owlie. My daughter also has an adorable crocheted owl hat she calls her “hoo hat,” and she’s been known to give dramatic, squeaky performances while wearing it. It’s funny and wonderful how family art and small traditions get passed along and take on new life with the next generation.
I returned a digitally restored print to my dad, too, so he could have a clean version to enjoy at home. The original still belongs with him, taped near his desk where it has lived for years — a comforting piece of continuity in his space. Keeping originals with their creators can feel right sometimes, especially when those works are tied to memories and routines.
Have you ever framed artwork made by a friend or family member? Did you keep the original or make a copy for display? I’d love to hear how others handle the balance between preserving originals and sharing pieces in the home. For me, a high-quality scan and a respectful restoration were the perfect way to honor my dad’s art while keeping the original where it had always belonged.
Psst—We announced this week’s three giveaway winners! Check the blog if you’re curious to see whether you’re one of them.