Monday, April 23, 2007

Parrish the thought

Every once in a while I succumb to the urge to make a dreadfully bad pun. It's one of my guilty pleasures—and one of the few that is both fat-free and harmless to my moral fiber (unlike eating ice cream or reading People Magazine).

Another non-fattening guilty pleasure is the art of Maxfield Parrish. I own three prints and one gorgeous lithograph that I got for a song on eBay. Daybreak hangs in one of our bathrooms above the tub, where I can take a bubble bath and imagine I am far away from dirty dishes and temper tantrums. Sunrise and Hilltop hang in my bedroom to create a mood of serenity and romance. Aquamarine (see above), is in a closet because I haven't figured out the perfect spot for it yet—maybe my office?—and I need to get some more nice, strong picture hanging hooks. I love looking at Parrish's paintings because of the luxurious art-deco style, his use of color and texture—that, and they make me feel like I can escape to live inside my very own romantic fairy tale, should the need for escape ever arise.

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