Your shopping cart is empty.
Feb 17, 2022
I remember being 4 or 5 years old ('69-70), growing up in East Paterson (since renamed the prestigious sounding Elmwood Park), NJ; Mom, dad, older brother and myself.
We lived in a three bedroom duplex and the third bedroom was called "The Serendipity Room," a word I could not pronounce back then, adding much jovial fun to the family time spent there. Come to think of it, I couldn't pronounce "Living Room" very well, either: my attempts sounded something like "Linga Room." More jovial laughter.
My dad's freelance commercial art table was in one corner, mom's bookkeeping desk in the opposing corner.
There was a black and white TV on a flimsy (brass?) metal-tubed and milky-plastic-wheeled cart, complete with rabbit-ear antenna; a sturdy, giant, I mean it was huge—in my mind, it loomed large like a grizzly standing tall on its hind legs and was just as terrifying—darkly-stained wooden box dad had built to house our toys (I'm sure it was only three feet long and 2 wide, maybe two feet deep); and just enough space on the floor to draw and play with the Hot Wheels® tracks brother and I would set up with great anticipation and care.
Then the dreaded "It's bedtime!" was announced, our hearts would sink as the realization and disappointment welled up inside. It was time to stop playing; iIt was time to go to sleep; time to leave TVLand friends behind. It would all come to a screeching halt. But beyond this, and built sturdily upon the shattered idyllic fantasy world of the 4 year old at play…
It was the chore of cleaning up the toys that disappointed me most.
To this day I avoid cleaning like the plague. I wish the act of cleaning was fun, like splashing Cobalt blue paint on top of a Cadmium Orange field.
I wish the simple act of flipping the vacuum switch to the “ON” position would send fireworks skyward, bursting overhead, raining down color and sound and smells of burnt gunpowder; I wish a live band would suddenly appear, jammin’ some high energy, move-your-ass-cleaning-music so my body would just take over while I get lost in the tunes; but mostly, my inner child wishes I could twitch my nose like Samantha, nod my head like Jeannie, or wave a wand like Hermione, and everything would magically move to its proper place, all paint container lids and caps closed, brushes cleaned, canvases carefully stacked, samples hung and tools put away.
Until such powers are mine, every 6 months or so I crank the tunes and wave my magic ruler over top of my mess one more time, just to test it, you know…knowing full well it is my ritual to get me started…prompting the sheer act of will it takes to pick up the first paint lid and find its mate.
But it is still nice to dream.
This is only visible to you because you are logged in and are authorized to manage this website. This message is not visible to other website visitors.
This means you can use the camera on your phone or tablet and superimpose any piece of art onto a wall inside of your home or business.
To use this feature, Just look for the "Live Preview AR" button when viewing any piece of art on this website!
This means you can use the camera on your phone or tablet and superimpose any piece of art onto a wall inside of your home or business.
To use this feature, Just look for the "Live Preview AR" button when viewing any piece of art on this website!
SAVE 15% ON YOUR FIRST PRINT ORDER!
Enter your email below and I'll email you a 15% OFF Coupon right now!
This offer is valid on prints only and for NEW CUSTOMERS only!