So I'm sitting here on a Sunday afternoon, pleasantly and lazily enjoying the company of my family, listening to Tucson's community radio,
KXCI, cogitating on the 36" x 36" canvas that is pale and hungry, begging for paint only twenty-two feet away in the studio, when I hear sounds next door, like someone's there. Sure, I freaked out because the woman who had been evicted had come back to forage for things...again. Why would I notice? This woman is a sociopath, the common, garden variety kind that stalked, threatened and tormented my family and me for the last eight years. Panic.
What to do? This is the moment that I realize how art not only created the world, but also saves it (and, me), when things get a bit dicey. I was reminded of a really funny cartoon that Mr. Artyfice has on his office wall.
Donning my artist's beret and my painterly smock that says "Good girls go to heaven, but bad girls go everywhere," I leapt into the studio with a mighty purpose, mixing and sloshing paint like a maniac: First, a four inch brush to lay down a layer of blue; Then, a combination of swashbuckling palette knife action for the sky and the hill below; Ending with a gentler swish and a smear for clouds hugging land. Two hours later, we have two more clouds over Patagonia. I've included the small, 8" x 8"
study previously posted.
Whew!
I could write a book about sociopaths...Oh, wait, someone already has:
The Sociopath Next Door, by Martha Stout.
