I have some pretty inconvenient design crushes which result in a series of acrobatics and negotiations to get the items that I’ve purchased back to my home base. Why, I am sure you are asking yourself, don’t I just buy what I want in my own neighborhood? Naturally I would if the Marche aux Puces (the Paris Flee Market) was in my back yard, or Blue Print – my heart throb of all heart throb design stores in Dallas Texas, or Magazine Street in New Orleans, or ABC Home in NYC – you get the point. I could shop my way around this little world of ours. If a carrier pigeon could transport my wares to my tiny South End abode, I might be in the pour house. With no barrier to my heart’s desire, I am not sure I could resist.
As it is, I have hauled framed paintings nearly as tall as myself on a ferry – much to the consternation of the steward, who inquired, a little less than politely, as to my intentions. When I primly responded that I intended to board the boat, as if my painting were the size of a handbag not high school basketball player, he looked aghast. It did in fact travel with me on my voyage, as did the artwork that I bought in the Nice, whose proportions prohibited it from passing through the traditional security scanners at the airport. Four flights and an overnight stay later, all three pieces arrived in Boston with me – safely.
I have stuffed pillows into carry-on’s, wrapped objects d’art carefully in clothing and tucked it inside my purse. I’ve arranged to have furniture and artwork trucked across the country when even my admittedly impressive powers of persuasion weren’t going to cut it. I find that I can be very creative and resourceful when I want something.
It’s funny then that I want to take things off the island, that clearly others went to great pains to bring here in the first place. If you know anything about Nantucket, it’s really hard to get things done – at least as it pertains to design and construction. That’s why this weekend’s adventure includes