Lava Lamps are memorable. One of my very first memories is of the huge, grandfather-clock-sized lava lamp in the bank. I would go with my mom and just sit and stare at the oversized density lesson. No matter how long it took her, I never whined of boredom. The bank could have been robbed, and I would’ve stood, gazing at the goo, unaware of any danger around me. Lava Lamps were far from normal, and very easily caught my attention.
Lava Lamps are universal. Anyone can own one, and there’s a secret part of everyone that wants one. They are used as a subtle night-light, for kids who are scared of the dark, to create a soothing atmosphere. Teenagers own them, grand-sized, 27 inches tall, just for the novelty of it. Even a nostalgic college professor keeps an original on his desk to remind him of his days in the “Age of Aquarius.” An office, a waiting room, a bank, a classroom, or any other trafficked room should have one for the serenity it spreads to all of its viewers.
Lava Lamp moments are refreshing, and everyone needs a Lava moment at least one in their busy day. Kind of like “stopping to smell the roses,” people just need to stop and watch the Lava Lamps; it’s one of those small joys in life. The bright colors and flowing motions can send anyone’s mind into a whirl-dance of new thoughts. Pop in a Dave Matthews CD; they go perfectly with any soft music to intensify your peaceful journey. “If you buy my lamp, you won’t need to buy drugs.” – Craven Walker, inventor of the Lava Lamp.
Lava Lamps are inspiring. The soft, undulating flows of goo are poetic in themselves. When watching the lava twist and move, beautiful, flowing words come to mind. They evoke a calm peace of mind and a full heart, like waves on the beach, not at all like the disturbing, explosive force for which they are named.
Lava Lamps are the ultimate examples of recycling. The sparkle Lamps spout glistening gems upward, where they explode like fireworks, and rain back down in a waterfall to repeat the cycle once more. “The Lava starts from nothing, grows possibly a little bit feminine, then a little bit masculine, then breaks up and has children. It’s a sexy thing.” – Craven Walker.
The tumultuous ups and downs of the heated wax are like hills on the rollercoaster of life. It’s an endless cycle; sometimes you’re the perfectly well-rounded bubble at the top, but, sooner or later, you start falling back down to join the rest of the goo at the bottom, until it’s your turn to break away and slowly float to the top again.
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