I haven’t done an interiors post in ages: for the simple reason that there hasn’t been much happening in that department. Our ground floor is more-or-less furnished, but upper ones still look pretty Spartan. Since the acquisition of the coffee table, there has been nothing exciting to report.

While the general rule in life is that nothing (good) happens unless you do it yourself, sometimes there are exceptions. Exhibit A: my sister – who lives with us in Brussels – decided to take up the piano again. She has found an amazing teacher and needs to practice, because the teacher is beautiful and very strict. So, miraculously, I came home yesterday to find a black piano standing regally in the dining room.

I haven’t played the piano for more than twenty years and never played well anyway – my major at the music school was flute. But a home without a piano has always seemed somewhat incomplete to me – just like a home without books looks totally wrong. In fact when I was little, I thought everybody had two pianos, because that was the case in my childhood home.

Having a piano in the corner therefore feels so right, not to mention that it’s a beautiful object. I hope my sister’s enthusiasm will persist and she’ll play for us occasionally: I love it when you can hear the piano playing from another room, it’s very Chekhov. And I’ve been thinking… no, not that I should try the piano, but maybe it’s time to own a flute again?