Ukulele, umbrellas, unchanging, underestimate, understanding, unity, unique, unspoken, unusual, upbeat, uplifting.
I almost picked unity. But that sounded like what a beauty pageant contestant would pick to expound on for the judges were she given a choice. I can hear it now, “I just what unity in the world.” I don’t want to be predictable so I guess it really makes sense that I pick “unique”. I’m thankful for the “unique”. I like unique.
As we’ve gone through this renovation, I’ve learned that the pieces I still love are the ones that were never mass-produced. They are the ones that I don’t see in anyone else’s home. I’ve got some pieces I’ve had for many years and they still “work” in my home, precisely because they’ve stood the test of time. Like the big copper bowl that sits on the lower shelf of a table. Like the chamber pot I use in a bathroom for my wastebasket. The old sewing machine table that has a top that didn’t come with it which has been painted lots of different ways. Like the crocks that sit on each one my steps going upstairs. The pieces I’ve given away or are going to give away are pieces I’ve bought in department stores where there have been a dozen of them on the shelf. That must have been a period in my life when I was foolish enough to want my home to look like everyone else’s. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m glad I’ve found myself again.
I like unique people, too. Not necessarily eccentric although I’m learning to appreciate them as well. By unique, I mean people who aren’t afraid to be who they are. They don’t explain themselves. They don’t justify themselves. They have no qualms about voicing their opinion when appropriate because they know how they feel about many issues. They aren’t worried about fitting in.
I like art that is unique, for sure. I would not have any art in my home that I could buy in a department store. I don’t like art that reeks of the predictable, like blue skies, green grass, etc. Give me pink, purple, orange skies. Give me purple or blue grass. Maybe that why Vincent Van Gogh. Not only is his art unique. He was unique. Well, no maybe he was eccentric. I guess eccentric people are always unique but not the other way around.
I didn’t use to be this way. I used to like the predictable and ordinary. Maybe I was predictable and ordinary. Who know? I just know I like unique and I’m thankful every time I find it.
(FYI: I don’t know why I had two posts published the same day. One of them should have been on the 25th. Or why “S” showed up before “T”. I do know the alphabet. J Anyway, hopefully everything is back on track. I’m glad I’m almost to the end of the alphabet. It’s getting awfully close to Christmas. We’re headed to Chicago on Monday. Husband working and I’m tagging along. What could be better than Chicago at Christmas? )