I Hear Voices...
I really do. Probably not what you're thinking, though. I was schizophrenic at one time....but now we are normal! :-)
Seriously, I was passing through my foyer the other day and I heard it. "Psst! Hey, you!"
"It's me, down here!"
"Who? Down where?"
"ME! The pottery jug on the floor by the clock."
You see, this forgotten, unassuming home accessory starting talking to me. It told me that it wanted to be pretty. It was originally brown. Brown was good years ago. Then, I had painted it gold-ish during the days when nothing smaller than a bread box and not nailed down was safe from me when I was holding a can of gold spray paint.
"I need MORE! Gold just isn't doing it for me anymore," it said, clearly demanding my attention.
And a thought came to me! Inspiration struck! A brilliant idea was born! "I will paint you to resemble a French tole painted planter!"
I need to back up here and tell you that I saw the most gorgeous French tole painted planter at the store where I purchased the fabric for the living room pillows. It sat there in all its glory, sporting a $139 price tag! "Pishaw!", I scoffed. "I can do that!" So I whipped out my nifty new phone with camera (which I was convinced I did NOT need when it came with the new cell phone plan.....) and snapped a couple shots while no one was looking. (Is that legal??)
Then I heard it....the tiny voice coming from 10 inches off the floor. And its fate was sealed. "YOU will be beautiful! Plain Jane no more! Louis XV would covet you for his palace when I'm done with you!"
So out came the paints which have sat idle for at least five years and I attacked that poor, humble jar with a vengeance.
I think I did her justice. She really is pretty now. And I think she will stay like this for a while.