My Pammy is a woman of many talents, many of which I do not possess. I've told you about her artistic abilities several times here on this blog, but she has so many more talents than just being a fab artist, illustrator and designer. She's always the one at restaurants who bothers to read the whole menu and picks out something really interesting that none of us had even noticed was there. And she's like that in shops, too. She always seems to find something hidden away that others don't spot. And yesterday she brought home her latest find. He doesn't have a name yet, but 'The Chief' is the obvious one for the meantime, isn't it?
The photos can't show you this, but he sparkles
in the sunlight. He isn't a moulded plaster or
concrete figure, he's carved from something
heavy, with a silvery, quartzy glint to it.
Handsome face. And he's rough around the
edges, all over. He looks hand-carved.
Pammy found The Chief at a secondhand store
not far from here, which opened up only last
week. Like any good secondhand place it was
crammed full of stock, and that's where the
observant browsers, like Pammy, come into their own.
Pammy knows I am an 'out and proud'
garden gnome lover with a libertarian
notion of what constitutes a garden
gnome. Across the way, eyeing off The
Chief with suspicion, is our entombed warrior
which I bought last year at the Art Gallery
of NSW. He's about 60cm (two feet) tall, while
The Chief is about 45cm (18 inches) tall.
I am sure The Chief is wondering 'who's
that guy with the cool body armour?'.
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