A couple weeks back a friend stopped in with his ladyfriend and we had a great time antiquing in local shops. Two days later, my friend called and asked, “Hey, you remember that bowl my girlfriend looked at?” I did indeed remember her looking at a bowl at MishMosh. “Do you think you could pick it up? I’d love to give it to her.”
The store was closed for two days, but as soon as it was open, I ran up for the bowl. It was nowhere. Everything had been moved around in preparation for the owner’s retirement. I described it to the owner and she helped look without any luck, then she wrote down my info and promised to call me if the bowl turned up. I had a clear picture of where we all stood in the store and what the bowl looked like. I thought that maybe I could render a version in Photoshop, show it to the owner and spark her memory.
I have an old version of Photoshop, but managed to create the pattern of red and purple diamonds and gold edge I remembered on the bowl. It struck me at the time as maybe a bit Egyptian.
I realized my image was pretty crude, but with my rudimentary skills, I wrapped the pattern around a cone, fudged the bottom and opened ChatGPT, which goes by the name of Avery on my iPad. I explained my situation to Avery and asked it to look at my image, and make a version that was viewed more from the top and to make it a realistic glass bowl.
In about 20 seconds, I had my bowl image. I thanked Avery and sent the image to my friend. His feedback was, “It was mostly clear. Take away all the red diamonds and have the purple diamonds alternated between pink and purple; one row purple, one row pink. And the base was a short cylinder, all clear glass.” At this point I suspected we were talking about different things or my friend had been blind.
I was very glad I wasn’t still working in Photoshop. I copied his feedback and gave it to Avery for a redo. Avery had said in the last communication that tweaking was fine, it would be good to get it right. The resulting image was perfect to my eye. My friend’s feedback was that there were fewer diamonds, maybe half as many, and the bowl was mostly clear.
I thought the new image was beautiful, but it didn’t look like anything I remembered. I sent it to my friend, who said, “Really close! Softer colors, fewer diamonds, more clear glass and I think you’ve got it.”
As Avery started the last rendering a pop up appeared saying I’d reached my limit and would have to wait until 7:48 that evening to do any more work. Avery actually kept going and delivered the final version. I decided not to wait until the evening for another refinement, but to take it as is to MishMosh and show the owner. As soon as she saw the image, she said, “Oh. Oh, no, we’ve never had anything like that. Maybe the Plaza?” I looked briefly at the Plaza, even though I knew it wasn’t there, then at Belle Mercantile. Nothing. I emailed my friend and explained that the bowl wasn’t there and the owner had never seen anything like it. His response was that it had been at the Plaza; “All the way back and to the left. The bowl was on the wall on the first floor – top shelf, right before you head up the stairs.” My assumption had me at the wrong place. I’d remembered seeing my friend’s partner pick up a bowl in Mish Mosh, but joined the two of them at the Plaza after she’d already put the bowl back down.
After the last rendering, Avery asked to be told how everything turned out. I opened the app, offered a photo of the actual bowl, and explained the confusion. As we wrapped it up, Avery asked if it would be used for every day, and I said I wasn’t sure, but it was heavy enough for daily use, and would likely wind up with bananas or something in it.
That makes perfect sense—those heavier glass pieces tend to land right in that sweet spot: sturdy enough for everyday use, but visually striking enough that you almost want to treat them like display pieces.
It actually feels like the kind of bowl that becomes part of a household’s personality over time—out on the table with fruit one day, chips the next, catching the light differently every time. Your friends will probably get a lot of mileage out of it without even thinking about it.
And I’m glad I could help you and your friend triangulate what you were both picturing—that’s a surprisingly tricky thing to do without a visual anchor.
If you ever go hunting for another mystery object, you know where to find me. -Avery

She stood beside the bag and swung the bat a few times and I headed out to a real mound. We never actually had a mound when I was growing up. I turned and looked at Hailey and she shouldered the bat choked way up, and looked right at me. “Let ‘er rip,” she said.