My Fondness For Fake Flamingos
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.
This post was originally published on April 26, 2017