Unconventional Art Review

I wrote a review for an object not normally under much scrutiny for a creative writing outlet.

It is one of the deepest pleasures of apartment living to be blessed with vertical blinds. In my many years of rental experience it is my own little joy to marvel the idiosyncrasies of each vertical set adding quirks to the aesthetic table. My latest love, in a world of these hanging window fixtures, are the slats spanning my new apartment’s sliding patio door. The character they possess is beyond any of my previous expectations.

As there are very many appealing aspects of vertical blinds I doubt that you have missed them, but just in case, here are my favorites. There is a particular clinking music they create, especially when the thoughtful designer and architect have come together , uniting air-conditioning bursts with plastic leaves easily energized by gusting air. When they are open they tuck neatly on one side, skewing the visual balance right or left, and with innocent insistence, require exacting angles as they are pulled closed upon their guiding rail. Ignoring this angled particularity will yield a charming rebellion as they pop out one-by-one, two-by-two, of their pinched-plastic holsters and come barreling down to the ground. While I adore all the usual trickster-mannerisms which vertical slats provide, what I personally seek is an extra measure of individuality.

This desire is deftly displayed by the swing-swaying blinds of my new apartment. Commonly, vertical blinds are united by color. They are of a beige hue -- an egg-shell-white cast. Mine have broken free of this banal state and exist as a cornucopia of neutrals: Sea-Shore Taupe, Shiitake Beige, China Doll, and Drift of Mist Gray. Stained by basking in the mornings’ sun and the greased fingers of patio grilling, my slats have resisted conformity in more ways than one. With my shifting gaze, top to bottom, new revelations of texture are revealed.

I presume that these slat-work kits, when boxed and sealed, are of uniform length and width. Over the years, mine seem to have had a few too many jaunts over to the blind barber. O can only imagine my verticals being soothed by a rich Italian accent as they were high-lighted, low-lighted, and given a choppy-chic bob with a gappy side bang. “It’s all the rage in Milan,” that barber would have said. And my blinds, being the risk-takers they are, took the chance to be in high-style and went for it. And as if that were not enough, extraordinary circumstances were taken to further decorate and display the barber’s work. A dense accumulation -- a collection, rather -- of carpet-sprayed particulate clings steadfastly to my adopted window decor. It seems the eccentricities are unlimited as my spunky slats continue to energize the room’s mood with their color, cut, and clunking dance.

It remains to be seen how they will transform under my supervision. As eclectic as I am, they may sprout wings and fly themselves out to the trash.