Have I ever mentioned that I love my job? I do. I love my job. Weird stuff happens here. The awesome kind of weird. For example…
Once upon a time (not so very long ago…) a lovely lady heard great things about Slate and came to see what all the fuss was about. Little did she know as she drifted through each vignette, that hidden among all the loveliness was a buried treasure in the form of a painting, from her life decades ago. Until there it was, staring her in the face with a sense of irony too unlikely for words. So she sought out the charming and witty store rep (who bears an uncanny resemblence to your dear writer…) and told her, “You will never believe it, but I painted this in the 60′s. I can’t believe it’s here.” So I will tell you the story of how the painting came full circle, and then you will know why this place is so awesome.
You can still see hints of the original colors, and still in it’s original frame!
Five decades ago, the aformentioned lovely (Chris is her name) gifted a sizable red and yellow magnolia flower painting to her sister for her birthday, which remained with her for her entire life. After she passed and her husband remarried, it was thoughtfully returned to her, where it sat in a closet for several years.
One day her daughter came upon it, decided it might be useful in a different color palette, and gave it a cream and sky-blue make-over. Voila! Sadly, her husband hated it. So back to the closet it went. Years come and go, and nob0dy wants it. It’s time. The daughters sells it. A short time later, another daughter hears the painting has sold, and is beside herself. Really? How could you just go and sell a family treasure like that? I want that painting!
Now at this point in the story, Chris pauses to qualify that (she swears) she talked to everyone and nobody wanted the darn thing. But there we are. The painting is gone. I mean, what can you do? And so she stares at this painting in serendipitous disbelief that it has made it’s way back to her. It even has the original rough wood frame that her husband made for it. And so it came to pass, my friends, that I made a call, relayed the story, and Cookie (the sweetheart merchant who owned said painting), was as charmed by the story as I was, and returned it to the family for her cost. The painting is home again, and hopefully not in the closet. Full circle. I love my job.
The end.