Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Breezing through the Culpeper farmer's market this past Saturday, a chair stopped me dead. Shoulda bought the bloody thing instead of playing mind games with myself about going home and doing it myself...which I won't get around to.
But I have all the materials, I cheaped: Boston fern, ivy, coleus. And there's surely a chair like that somewhere in the basement, the garage, the attic.
Brainless, that's what this unpurchase was. That ribbon dangling off the corner was for first place at the Orange County Fair, and the price tag? Thirty measly bucks.
The ultimate deal killer? The color of the chair, or the uncolor of the chair, since it was unpainted wood. Think PINK! my mind screamed, or purple, or verdigris. I was so ticked that the creator didn't take that wee bitty step that I shot my toe off to spite my face, or whatever.
For like 10 bucks (if I don't care to scrounge around the minefield that is the garage) I can buy a can of paint and it would be perfect...vibrating so happily beneath the purple Rose of Sharon, the spot that the red begonia hated so intensely that it decided it would just rather up and die on me.
See, see I said this morning as I colorized the chair in Photoshop. Damn fool.