Finding the Right Girl

The past couple of months I've been roaming the streets of London to find just the right pieces of art to staple on my walls. The living room now proudly holds two of my findings. I would put it up but I am too lazy to take a pic of it, load it up, resize, upload to photobucket, attach the URL... too much trouble. But that's the living room.

I wanted something else for the bedroom. Something in stark contrast to those I have. Lichtenstein's prints have caught my eye and I thought it would be amazing to own one of that. In particular the one in the Crying Girl series is just perfect to me. The one above is the most popular one, I seem to find it everywhere. I don't know where the original is but the prints and reprints, covers are everywhere. Yet I wanted a not so commercialised Lichstenstein. I almost gave up and nearly settled for a Moulin Rouge type of print.

Then this Saturday whilst walking in the back alleys of Leicester Square, we took a wander into the quaint little stores that have been overshadowed by the big corporations. We went into mystic stores where we saw this crazy lady come in with a list and started going through the store as though it was a supermarket. " I need two rose quartz, three cat's-eye, wood incense, feathers ..."and as she trailed off she said something about needing it to create a charm. We bolted out of there. Fast.

Next it was bookstores that had antique books and I had to be persuaded not to part for an antique book on the Arabian Nights. Then Peter Pan. I love the old covers and yesteryear's typeface. I even love that old musty smell. Go figure. Maybe I was a librarian in my past life.

Towards the end of the alley stood this art bookstore. I would have passed it by except I spotted from the window outside this print that stood unframed on the top shelf. It was displayed there almost as an afterthought... it is a bookstore after all.

Drawn to it I was so I turned in and stood in the middle of this tiny store and stared at the print. This Mick Jagger lookalike cum storekeeper greeted me lazily and incoherently. He wouldn't stop having a conversation with me and it was all I could do to be polite whilst trying to ascertain from that level whether it was an original Lichtenstein. I fell in love with it.

I asked him the price and being the hippie loving type he confessed he was just a struggling musician manning the store for a friend so he needed to ring and find out. He took a long drag on his cigarette... come to think of it the whole store (which is actually a box with a door in size) stank of marijuana. I paced nervously and my companion at the time had to ask me to stop being so restless. He told me the price. Ouch. But if it was an original it was reasonable. But still it would take a chunk out of me so despite the bounding ram inside of me that wanted so much to take the leap... I let sensibilities lead. I told him I'd wait. By this time he was already off-tangent about how he loved silks... how it felt against his skin. Too much info I think at this point.

Now a day later and a bit.. I cannot get her out of my mind.






I think it's perfect. Should I or shouldn't I? If I can amend anything it would be better if it was a brunette. Decisions, decisions.