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I had 45 Avril Lavigne posters. Those were my first posters.

I had a Stuart Davis poster growing up.

Tacked above my desk are photos of artists I admire - Hopper, Sargent, Twain - and postcards from beloved bookstores where I've spent all my time and money - Tattered Cover, Elliot Bay, Harvard Bookstore.

There was a fascinating handmade poster scene in Chicago in the '90s, and I became friends with many of the artists; the posters were often more impressive than the bands.

My room used to be full of Michael Jackson posters.

In the Raphael Room, the secret turned out to be that only some of the paintings were made by the great master; the rest were made by students. I had liked the ones by Raphael. This was a big jab for my self-confidence in my ability to appreciate art.

I remember my mom had a big collection of copies of Saturday Evening Post magazines, and that was really my introduction to those great illustrators.