Everyday magic.
So, this is kind of weird. Or maybe it’s not. You be the judge.
About four or so years ago, having just gone through some major emotional housecleaning and personal inventory, I went with a friend to a small local street fair in the Inglewood neighborhood on Nashville’s east side. There, on a whim, I picked up a random piece of folk art from an artist in one of the booths. It was painted on a somewhat large piece of plywood, which I later had cut to outline the subject.
I can’t tell you what drew me to the piece, which was a bit rough and crude. But I noticed it when we first walked in and my mind kept going back to it. I started to leave without it, after we had made our way through all of the booths at the fair, but ultimately went back and bought it. It didn’t have a name, but in my mind I called the piece “Golden Girl”.
I never really found a home for it, and once I moved in with my now husband, Golden Girl ended up relegated to a partially finished basement and basically forgotten … one of those impulse buys likely destined for a future garage sale.
Recently, in connection with some home improvements we are doing, the piece was unearthed. But I hadn’t taken a good look at it for a few years, until today.
It’s kind of amazing really.
It features a woman in a yellow dress, who is inexplicably and totally bald.
And she is holding in her hands a clock on which a number is painted at each quarter hour mark.
The number at each quarter hour is 3.
The number that is, if you’ve followed our story, a recurring theme for us … a magic number.
I don’t know what it means, if anything. But there you have it. A wee reminder of universal magic on a Sunday morning.
I’ll take it anywhere I can get it.
And Golden Girl? I think I’ll keep her.
