The Red Dragon

When the cold bare knuckles of fall beat at the windows, before the dust-warm heaters came on, the bathroom was the warmest place to be. I would slip from my room, grab a few catalogs, and sit with my back against the closed door, half within a loose tent of blanket. There, I gazed at pictures of the worlds of my dreams. Design Toscano was one of my favorites - it had dragons, unicorns, mermaids, fairies - the whole shebang. I dreamed of them, of how big they'd be, what emotions I could attribute to them, how their eyes betrayed their histories. Ever since, I've collected knick-knacks that glimmer with untold stories.

For years as an adult, I eyed the Dragon of Stonebridge Castle wall sculpture. What I saw was not the picture in the catalog (see below):


What I saw in my mind was a red dragon, as proud as the Welsh dragon, as powerful as Smaug, and scaled like a river of fire and blood.

I bought the sculpture, telling myself I would bring out its inner palette...
which I finally did.

Here's the result:


Soon after, my partner added a fun surprise!