This morning I painted my toenails black with red spots like a Ladybird. This of itself isn't strange but it is indicative of something. I feel 'arty'.
The arty feeling hits often but goes nowhere. My brother was the Artist in the family (note collage from previous post). I was the- God knows what I was but it frightened my parents. Poor things. Then I turn my awakenings of evil toward law school. She is Lost! they cried.
Point being, today I had no excuse not to finish the cartoon I was brainstorming a few blogs ago. I took up my box of pencils and began in earnest at about lunch time. Then came the trip to pre-prep to hand in forms, the library book that had to be returned, the child that had to be collected from school (God forbid!) and all the attendant stuff that happens with two hungry, hot, excitable kids at home.
Point is it took me ages and I had lots of little people trying to help me. I finally finished the carton and showed Partner. 'I don't get it,' he said.
Felt like slamming the door on my own head. After all this time and effort! My first toon is a bust!
It's because I can't draw @#$#%^#^CATS isn't it.
I knew they would undo me in the end!
Anybody out there get it? At least a little bit?
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