My Fondness For Fake Flamingos
April 26, 2017
When I was a teenager we lived in this pretty white Queen Anne Victorian house. I loved having friends over, because it was really nice and it had a huge back yard. That was until my mom put up these plastic lawn flamingos. They embarrassed me to no end. They were so dorky and I was trying so hard to be cool.
Long after I moved out, sometime around the time I got married, I started thinking of the flamingos more fondly. I missed my mom and when I would think about buying a house and settling down I would think of the flamingos.
They give me kind of like a rebellious, but comforting feeling. Painting flamingos is my way of embracing the weirdness of my childhood, and my own weirdness, instead of being embarrassed by it.