Monday, December 17, 2012

The Art Of Regret

Years ago, twenty, now that I put an actual date to it - I ran across a necklace in a shop in a small town outside of Fort Worth.  It was a piece unlike any I'd ever seen before - from a green semi-precious stone whose name escapes me - native to Australia, I think.  I tried it on, left the store, came back later and tried it on again.  It was an expensive piece, for me at the time.  I mean, I could have paid for it, but the $125 dollars that the piece cost was a real stretch for me.  

I have lived with the regret of not buying that piece.  It was so "me" and so classic and I would have worn it so often that the cost per wear by now would be just pieces of pennies.  I still look for a piece like it, but nothing has ever come close, at any price. 

I'm in a nesting/creative phase again these days.  I've been shopping for a few smallish decorative items to really finish off the house.  I guess I haven't posted the picture of the small ink drawing I brought back from VN and had framed.  Finding the perfect place for that piece launched a chain reaction in "what if I moved this over there?"  So when Pebbles needed to be in town for an early dentist appointment, she offered to come over yesterday to help.

And by help, she really meant shop.  We spent the afternoon scouring home decorating stores and junk stores, high-end and low.  We passed by a new antique store fairly close to the house and vowed to work our way back to it before it closed at 5pm.  And we did exactly that.  There was a cluster of establishments that we went though, one being an artist collective.  And that's when I saw it.

A piece of art that absolutely sent my heart racing - it spoke to me in a viceral sense.  Organic and graphic.  Both very masculine and extremely feminine - or perhaps strong/striking, rather than masculine.  I was standing there looking at it when Pebbles said "that piece is absolutely you".  I gave her a dollar figure that I was willing to pay for it and she stepped forward, looked at the price and laughed and said "Not hardly".  And so we left to see the other establishments.  We returned to this one and I looked again.  Again, the same reaction.  But too much money.

I could not get the piece out of my head.  I went to bed thinking about it and I woke up thinking about it.  I thought about the dollar figure that I was willing to pay right then and the distance to the asking price.  I looked at the collective price of the cute trinkets that I had purchased the day before.  Things that I liked well enough, but were in no way special.  I mentally calculated adding that total to the price I was willing to pay - if I decided to return everything that I'd purchased.  I was still a ways away.

So this morning, I emailed the artist and made an offer.  She accepted.  I pick it up in the morning.  I choose not to live in regret over this piece.  I shall see it and I shall love it for the remainder of days.

Take good care of yourself.  Be kind to others.  Don't buy throw pillows when what you really want is a new couch.



  1. You are so right on with this - and the reason that this year, I've bought very little in the way of clothing...but what I HAVE bought, I love. Placating ourselves with less-costly trinkets just doesn't do it when the real deal makes you feel so much happier. Glad you got the necklace and of course, you must post pictures!

  2. Amen! In my efforts to curb spending and clutter, I've occasionally staggered over the line into the area of denying myself pieces that would have brought me joy.

  3. It makes my heart happy to know you have that painting :-) And deeper message is soooo important.

  4. One of the glorious things about being 50-something is knowing in your gut it's best never to live in regret! I am happy for you.

  5. That is so. totally. cool!! I'm happy for you, Roxie!

    could you imagine making that your email "sign off" on all missives!?

    so wise and so filled with HUH! I NEED TO THINK ABOUT THIS...


  7. Heard of buyers remorse before, but this is a new one. And really - at this stage of the game, why NOT get what you like? After years of scrimping and squeaking by, isn't it nice to realize that 'hey - I CAN afford that!' I'm really liking that aspect of this being a 50-something.

  8. Art is so intimate a thing - so personal, that when a piece speaks to you, its best to listen. These kinds of things don't happen very often, I find. Good for you for allowing yourself this piece of art. Would LOVE to see it! hint-hint


We'll try this for a while.