11/06/2011 by Sarah Ritchie
I remember – many, many moons ago – visiting the home of my mother’s friend. She owned an oil lamp…not a “lava lamp” as such, but one where oil ran up and down wires, creating yellow, glowing, moving patterns that captivated my imagination. Lava lamps take me back to those childhood memories of oil and colour and movement…only these days the colour is more vibrant, the wax blobs WAY bigger and the movement totally random, with such pretty lighting.
I do like lava lamps. I don’t have one (hint, hint), and I am not sure Simon would actively encourage one into the house (though I think I could sneak one in as far as my art studio!).