Japan Ceramic Flower Aqua Black Daisy

When my sister called to ask what to hang above a couch in her new apartment, I suggested what any reasonable person would: a tasteful print of dogs playing poker. She responded by sending me a link to what looked like something Claude Monet would have created if he'd quit waterlilies and decided to work exclusively in ceramics while going through a Miami Beach phase. "It's wall art," she insisted, as if capitalizing the words somehow justified the price tag. The ceramic flower in question wasn't just large - it was the kind of large that makes you wonder if it was secretly being used to communicate with marine life. Its aqua petals stretched outward like frozen waves caught mid-crash, each one tipped with black outlines that made it look like it had been pulled straight from a comic book about underwater adventures. As far as wall decor goes, it had all the subtlety of a pool party in December. But she was convinced it would "make a statement." The statement, as far as I could tell, was "I enjoy living inside what appears to be the love child of Art Deco and The Little Mermaid." She bought it anyway. Now when I visit, I find myself staring at it, waiting for it to either start speaking in speech bubbles or flood her living room. Sometimes, I swear it's doing both.