I never thought I'd find myself waxing poetic about a ceramic flower, but here I am, positively giddy over a piece of wall art that's about as alive as my Aunt after her third martini. This teal monstrosity, courtesy of Chive's decade-long obsession with fake flora, arrived in a box so pretty it made me question my life choices. Why don't I live in a box this fabulous? As I hefted the flower out, I half-expected a tiny ceramic gardener to pop out and yell, "Surprise! You've been punk'd by photosynthesis!" But no, it was just me, standing there with a giant teal blossom that looked like it had escaped from Alice's Wonderland after a particularly wild tea party. The thing about this flower is that it's got a keyhole in the back, as if it's some sort of floral escape artist ready to hang itself at a moment's notice. I imagined it swinging from my living room wall, a constant reminder that I'd chosen to decorate my space with the botanical equivalent of a trust fund baby – pretty to look at, but ultimately useless. Yet, as I stood there, contemplating where this cerulean creation would best clash with my decor, I couldn't help but smile. It was ridiculous, yes, but in the most delightful way possible. And isn't that what we all need sometimes? A little bit of absurd beauty to brighten up our walls and our lives?