What is it about palm studded isles that unleash the artistic muse? There are more artists here than Pablo could shake a paint brush at.
I could hang out at Lovegrove Gallery and Gardens all day long. The space vibrates with a creative buzz. I feel so fortunate to have two pieces of her art hanging in my makeshift office on board the Gypsy Wagon.
Then there is Bonnie's place. I spent almost an hour in there, talking and laughing with the artist. She's a real treasure and I can't wait to take one of her classes while here.
Wandering through the art environs, I started to feel a sense of mystery. Not in the Sherlock Holmes genre, more of the metaphysical kind, a feeling that something or someone was calling me. Then I saw them, the mermaids.
They are everywhere; in the galleries, in gift shops, in taverns, restaurants and even the bathrooms. They've sung their siren call into my heart and I am obsessed. I am on the hunt for the perfect mermaid.
I may have found her basking beneath the celestial orb that controls the tides of her ocean home,
hanging around on a fingernail moon,
or, if I'm so inclined, hanging around my neck.
Perhaps a tattoo would consummate the sense of myth, mystery and feminine sovereignty I am seeking. That's a tall order, since most of the woman/fish tattoos I've seen are of the male fantasy variety.
I did find this beauty. She reminds me of Hollywood legend, Rita Hayworth. I see her rendered with auburn locks and sea green tail. Definitely a mermaid who is slave to no man.
The hubby isn't too fond of the idea of a tattooed wife. I'm not too fond of being told what to do.
Confrontation or personal declaration of freedom to be? Stay tuned.
Well, the rain has stopped and the sun is coming through the palm fronds. Time to return to the hunt.
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