Sunday, October 3, 2010

Truth in Advertising aka The Fruit of the Room

I admit it, I’m a sucker for an enticing advertisement. Yes, I have purchased a few items from info-mercials at 5:00 am - who wouldn’t want to look ten years younger AND receive a bonus miracle eye cream all for one low price (plus shipping and handling). I have yet to find the product that lives up to its marketing hype - until now. My faith in advertising has been renewed. While shopping recently in a local antique mall, I spied - (spied isn’t exactly accurate, I mean this was difficult to miss) - an extremely large ceramic pomegranate displayed prominently in my friend’s booth. Now that I have become the proud owner of this “obra maestra” I must admit there is no other way to display it - prominence is this ceramic pomegranate’s destiny.

At first glance, my thoughts ran to “extremely oversized, oddly colored tomato”, but the tag attached to it set me straight. Large, ceramic pomegranate - the focal point of any room.” No truer words have ever graced an ad. With a diameter larger than a basketball and life like detail (At least I am assuming the details are life like because I have never actually seen a pomegranate), this “objeto de arte” has no other choice but to assume its rightful place as “the focal point of any room”. Too large to rest on the mantel, it has found a home on the center of my coffee table. “Eye catching” and “Conversation piece” don’t begin to do this ceramic marvel justice.

I had been in search of a muse, well actually the characters in a short story I’m writing were, when I first saw the pomegranate. I didn’t buy it, because it was a bit too expensive and I‘d already dipped into the “ceramic fruit“ portion of my decorating budget to get a pedicure. Priorities must be maintained. I did talk about it though. My friends patiently listened as I explained how the pomegranate was now the be the focal point of my story, the perfect muse. Impossible to overlook and yet, subtle in it’s beauty. I even took my daughter back to see it, once again contemplating a purchase. The second time, it looked even bigger. I couldn’t actually imagine it in my home, so once again I passed it by, next month’s pedicure allowance safe for the moment.


School started and I dove into my Spanish Class and World Literature with berry colored toe nails and the memory of my newest muse safely stored away for future use. My story sat neglected while I poured my spare time into learning random greetings in espanol, (These Spanish references are for you La Profesora!) and devoured The Odyssey for my lit class. Then suddenly, there she was, the pomegranate, sprouting from the pages of ancient Greek drama - even Odysseus knew what a pomegranate looked like. It was a sign. Later confirmed when my good friends, and I mean really good friends, Jeanne and Gemma, presented me with the large, ceramic pomegranate as a birthday gift - in a restaurant no less - so we could display it on the table as we ate. Despite the elaborate themed d├ęcor of The Elephant Bar, the pomegranate instantly emerged as the focal point of the room.


So inspiration is abundant this fall at casa de Kinskey. It springs from the pages of Greek Drama and mounts it’s self-proclaimed throne on my family room coffee table. It bounces like a ping pong ball around me each morning in Spanish I - I have the greatest group of classmates an “estudiante de la vieja” could ask for. Inspiration finds me in the halls of my sons’ high school, and in my kitchen with a room full of hungry teenagers grabbing a bite to eat on their way back down to the “hombre de las cavern” to play X-Box Live. It waits patiently for me to slow down and inhale it in the pages of The Acts of the Apostles, and in the insights into God’s mercy I receive from the women I study with. Now if more time would only appear!