I grew up admiring the small Bluebird of Happiness glass figurine that sat on my grandmother's kitchen windowsill. The studio that makes them is situated on the side of a hill of the Ozarks about 40 miles south of my home.
Recently, I visited for the first time and experienced all the weird and wonderful that Terra Studios could offer a one year old and his mom. I say weird because it's basically what one would expect from hippies who decided to become hillbillies 40 something years ago. All manner of gnomes and over fairytale creatures tucked in the midst of sculptures and fountains and flowers. It was obviously a bit tattered around the edges. 40 years of anything will do that.
My short visit reminded me that things (art, relationships, experiences, life) do not have to be perfect to be delightful.