484 Chive Burnt Yellow Empire Cabbage Ceramic Flower

I bought an orange ceramic lily the other day, mostly because I couldn't decide what to hang above my bed. I'd considered the usual options: a framed photo of my family, an abstract painting that probably meant something, but ultimately, none of it felt right. Then I saw it, the lily, bold and orange, like something you'd find in the waiting room of a dentis's office that secretly wants to be modern artwork but isn't quite sure how to pull it off.

The lily is medium-sized, and I liked the way the petals seemed to reach out from the wall, as though it were trying to escape. The keyhole on the back made it clear: this was a flower meant for the wall, not for a vase. It was wall mounted art, after all, wall art decor that screamed, I have taste, while simultaneously whispering, please, no one mention it ever again.

I hung it above the bed, figuring the sheer audacity of an orange ceramic lily would work in a room that had been a little too safe for too long. I don't know if it's a conversation starter or a conversation killer, but every morning when I wake up and look at it, I think, well, that's one less thing to worry about when deciding what to hang above a bed.