I’m nearing the end of the semester. I was assigned a creative exercise for one of my classes. I thought and thought and finally figured out that I had all the equipment for a painting.
I made a fruit basket based on one of the poems we read, and using an abstract technique. I had to do an artist statement that included comments about the help from the animals. Hopefully the grade will be a passing grade.
As always, there’s a story. I had help with my painting. Molly decided to taste test the brushes. Just a lick of a clean brush was enough. She moved on to the chair for nap and observation time.
Later, when I had my music going, I forgot that I had an open tube of red paint in my hand. I was singing along, talking to Molly and moving to the music. Before too long, I had dripped paint onto the floor and into a box. It ended up all over. I closed the lid and cleaned up what I could. Paint was everywhere, especially on my hands. I called for help because my extra rags were in the drier and I didn’t want red paint on the clean clothes.
I managed to keep the paint off everything else. I cleaned up but still had paint under my cuticles for a few days. At least it was not on clothes or door knobs.
When it came to taking the photo, I had to enlist help. You can see my assistant’s finger impressions on the upper parts of the painting, since she was holding it from the back, so we could get the lighting with minimal background.
Now I get to finish up one more paper for this class and then I’m done with this class. One step closer to graduation. I’m checking things off the todo list slowly but surely.
bookworm at the gym 