Oh what a wonderful time of year….summer. You can walk around enjoying the lovely weather, the beautiful flowers and trees, the sound of the water, and the sun and the sand. You can go to that exotic destination or just head to the Jersey shore like I did. I haven’t been to Cape May, New Jersey since I was a little kid. So, on my most recent trip to the Wildwoods I decided to head to “The Cape.”
As I strolled the walkway packed with stores on each side and an ice cream in hand I was in pure Heaven. I have always had an affinity for the Victorian Era and every old house by the beach here was architecturally perfect in my eyes. The smell of the air and the salt water was mesmerizing, soothing, and rich! I did quite a bit of day dreaming as I walked by the sale signs on houses I know I can’t afford now, but maybe one day. The prices are high but my hopes are too. So, I surveyed the scene made some calls to the realtors and each time I got a good chuckle. I won’t be calling Cape May home anytime soon, but I had fun for the moment.
As the sun faded into the beautiful night sky my boyfriend, Mike, and I walked past a storefront window with a stunning painting of a White Stallion. There in the window of this tiny art gallery hung a magnificent painting that captivated our attention. I have never been so struck by a horse? I was in love. I went into the gallery and fell in love with quite a few more oil paintings, but none like the stallion. I left the store after proclaiming my love for this dominant animal and after begging for the owner to think about lowering the price some. As he called it in his salesman voice, “It’s like unbridled passion.” I hated to admit it, but this money making man was on the money. He knew he had me. I had to think about this purchase so I left with a smile and said, “I’ll be back.”
I was on a little high about to spend some serious money on an oil painting or two…oh yes, two. I also found a beautiful floral print for my dining room. I thought if I bought two he would wheel and deal with me. I told Mike, “I’m going back to get them.” He looked shocked but said,”Whatever you say, they are great and you work hard so buy them.” So, I did. I made my way back into the gallery pretty forcefully and asked him if I bought both what kind of deal would he make on these pricey paintings? He knocked off a few hundred dollars; I asked for more got turned down and then bought them anyway. I wasn’t looking back. They were sold to me! I was happy to spend my hard earned money on artwork that would never go out of style; they are classic, timeless pieces. I left with a huge smile joking the whole time saying, “Only I would come to the beach and leave with two huge oil paintings that I now have to find a way to get home.”
In the days to come I did some more shopping in Cape May. This was my kind of place. I was happy to sort through the trash or treasure in the antique stores. I love to decorate, mixing old with new. I found a vintage dresser and a newer zebra ottoman. Sold to Janine, again! Still, we came with one car, lots-o-clothes, and suitcases! I can’t ever be fashionably challenged, not even on vacation.
We worked out a way to get Mike’s father’s truck to solve all of my shopping problems. We were leaving on Friday so that Thursday we decided to see if we could fit the paintings in the car. We carefully walked out the White Stallion wrapped in plastic and tried to fit it in, but no luck. So, Mike and I decided just to wait until the next day when we had the truck so we had no accidents.
We both turned to head back in the gallery and within in a minute I heard a huge crash and a bunch of “OOOHHHH’S and AWWWWWW’S” coming from the lazy travelers on their vacations too. I was scared to look back because I knew it was my painting and my man. All I saw was Mike wiped out on the pavement and my stallion face down under him! At first I was in shock…no way, seriously did he just fall and on what??? It wasn’t heavy how could they both tumble down like that? Mike got right up and apologized with beads of sweat dripping from his forehead and blood dripping from his foot. I didn’t care about the paintings I cared about him.
“Babe, I think I broke my toe but I don’t care about that, I am so sorry about the painting. You love it and I ruined it.” He did, but I didn’t care. It’s just a material thing. I can’t lie I was quite sad about the entire misfortune, but how could I be mad? The frame was damaged, the painting was scratched badly, and his foot was bleeding. The good news, no hole in the canvas and the owner’s wife is a great artist and is going to try and repair the painting.
The rest of the night Mike apologized and I kept laughing. Not just laughing it off, hysterically laughing about the entire night. After he fell and I realized he was fine, just ended up with a terribly gross cut and some embarrassment as he took a nose dive in front of a lot of people, I couldn’t help but howl at the thought of my brand new expensive oil painting hitting the pavement. Both of my White Stallion’s weren’t so stallion in that freeze frame, slow motion moment.
I made jokes the rest of the trip about Mike’s “trip.” We will always have a funny one of a kind story for that masterpiece that will soon be hanging in my home somewhere. Every time I see the painting I will see “The Fall.” I learned two things about myself this vacation: I am growing up a little more everyday. Material things are replaceable and even if you love them, they aren’t real enough to hold onto in life. Secondly, my taste is changing. I love paintings more than photography and prints now, I appreciate the different strokes of color and the different strokes of life.
Ah, yes, one more thing I’ve learned about myself…it’s not the situations but how one handles the situations in life. Mike was so sad about the accident that it made me realize what an even more wonderful, kind hearted person I had standing with me and next to me. I appreciate him even more now than before. Cape May turned into “Cape Fall.” He fell with my painting and I fell a little more head over heels for him.
