The Cherub

I was laying on the couch last night looking up at our mantle. Just resting and thinking. Suddenly I realized that I can't stand this white cherub statue that has been a mantle decoration in my various homes for about 8 years now. It was a gift from a teacher I student taught with ten years ago. It is about 10 inches high, 7 inches across (the wingspan, you know) and lightly dusted with gold glitter. It is a kneeling cherub with hands folded together in front in a prayer posture. It really bothers me that I have just now discovered that it isn't my style and I would rather not have it displayed on my mantle. In fact, the more I looked at it last night, the more ugly it became to me and I was quite shocked that it had never occured to me before. Then I was a bit angry at myself for not realizing my own tastes sooner. Sometimes I feel like I drift along too much without really knowing what my style is when it comes to dress, home decor, etc. That could be called ecclectic, you know, but really it's just an accidental mish-mash because I don't really know what I want to accomplish. I am turning 30 years old this year and I am still not sure what kind of clothes flatter me, how to apply most make-up, and what style of furniture I like best. This sudden cherub revelation is really only the tip of the iceberg. I can't seem to pull it all together in a way that sighs, "this is the perfect representation of what I view as beautiful and meaningful." All I know is, if this doesn't become clear to me by the time I'm 50, then I better just give up and pretend ecclectic is what I was really going for.