Last week I found myself mesmerized by a pair of gold painted birds from the 50s. Was I having some kind of flash back? Were these at my grandma's in the Bronx and my subconscious mind, having remembered them, went into some kind of pleasure overdrive? I had to have them in spite of the layers of dust, chipped paint and high price considering what they are. I pad six bucks for the pair and took them home figuring I'd put them on ebay or something.
I find myself unable to part with them and yet they go against everything I know about myself. They're ornate without any function, a category I don't gather and keep. They're ridiculously grandam too. Since they've been with me they've inspired me to start a painting, yes featuring at least one of them. Then I thought of a series based on them. I moved them from a to be listed on ebay pile to my desk. I wonder if a dust based vintage minded parasite has moved in to my brain making me unable to part with them. Ahhhhh!