...because, in my apartment, I have an old, wooden end table upon which it shall perfectly perch. Because I have been trying to spend my money wisely lately, choosing décor items that are not only beautiful and well made, but that also mean something, that come from somewhere, and this vase fits that bill perfectly. The deep, sultry colors mirror those I imagine of a deep, sultry night in Morocco: Sunset mauves, twilight blues, midnight navys. The craftsmanship calls to mind crowded market stalls off dusty alleyways, local artisans with weathered hands expertly sculpting, molding, painting.
In other words? It’s a trip to Morocco without going to Morocco.
Although I plan on doing that at some point, too.