I Am He ~ Vetter Get Going

Spotted Fawn, Canary Beak and Lamb’s Belly.

Sassafras Glen, Quaking Aspen Shoot, Boysenberry Blossom.
Soggy Rain, Frostbite and Dripping Fog. These are my words.
I am that man. I am the paint namer.

-by Alan Vetter

To you, mine is a great job.
To me, it is “Destiny’s Desire”, “Inner Passion”, “Love’s Pursuit.”

Where you see red, I see Crimson Beet.

Your blue is my Oceanic Flotsam.

Green? No.

Emerald Fairy Wing? Most definitely.
You have only a general idea of what that color is.
But then I tell you what it really is.

And you say:
“Holy shit. That is perfect. It could not be anything else.”

But the truth is...
It could be a hundred other things.

But it’s not.

It is what I tell you it is.

It is Burnt Toast, Elephant Ear and Golden Shower.
Prickled Passion Fruit, Half Ripened Banana, Gristle.
It is Puppy Nose and Kittens Paws.
Murder Of Crows and Cole Slaw.

One day, you will choose to paint your daughter’s bedroom,

and as you peruse the swatches, you will ask her,
“What color do you like?”

She will will turn to you and say...
“Unicorn Tears”

Little girls love unicorns.
And I know that.

But “Unicorn Tears” is not a color.

Until now.

I will show you that it is the only color which will work with the room.
With the light. And the drapes. And the dog.

I could have called it “Wandering Gypsy”,
But your daughter is afraid of gypsies.

And I know that too.

“Wandering Gypsy” would sit on the store shelf.

"Dusty Tin", "Forgotten Love", "Misplaced Youth".

A sad, lonely, depressing color.

You do not want a sad, lonely and depressed 7 year old living in your house.

But “Unicorn Tears”….oh yes.
She will come to realize, “This is who I am.”
It will complete her.
If it could, the unicorn would say to her,
“We were meant to be together”.
But you and I both know that unicorns cannot speak.
“Mute-icorn.”

-A color reflecting the quiet stillness of your lost inner child.

Available for a limited time.
Only at Lowe’s.

Unicorn Tears is only one of many lies which I have perpetuated.
Do not fight it.

For once upon a time he was the pet of your dreams.
Now your daughter’s walls are the color of its tears.

The living room once was white.
Now it is "Unspoken sympathy", "Unbridled Ecstasy", "Uncorked Chardonnay".

That does not rhyme. But that is fine.
Because that does.

And just when you thought I had reached my
“Midnight Climax”,

I am poised to shock and amaze with my new line of “Man” paint.

Because I know it is nearly impossible to sell a man on
“Mystic Mauve”,
When the pillows are already nestled in frilly cases.
And you have been poisoning him with potpourri
since the day you started shacking up.

He will need a color which is his own.
Something that says:

This is my color. Mine alone.

Sweat sock. Beer Foam. Pimple.