Adventures as an Abstract Artist

...and into alliteration.

Andrew and I have been meaning to get some art to cover up these ugly, ugly walls. Unfortunately, we're a little short on cash (this is a running theme in my posts), but neither one of us is interested in cheap crap.

Andrew suggested we paint our own art. Of course, my reaction was: "HA! AS IF!". Then I took a closer look at the types of paintings I was looking at, and...they're probably not that difficult to do. Even for someone like me, a talentless, useless waif.

Thus empowered, I promptly excluded Andrew from the project because I get ridiculously selfish when it comes to my ideas. I asked him for help, because I don't know how to hold a paintbrush, but true to my character, I ignored all the advice he gave me.

I am a stubborn prig. I know it. He knows it.

So, armed with straws and string and brushes and fingers (!), I painted.

Paulie sat very gingerly on the newspapers while the background was drying overnight.

He's still deceptively cute.

Before I started this colourful endeavour, I carefully laid out the billions of newspapers you see. I also asked Andrew if he could move my pretty (PRETTEH!!!) bike into the other room as a preventative measure. He laughed and asked me how the hell I was planning on getting paint on my bike. To that I say, LIKE THIS:

Do you see that? I GOT PAINT ON MY FACE. It's also all over the floor, my socks (because I STEPPED IN IT), my shirt, my pants, my hair (!), the couch, and many other places I don't even want to think about.

This is probably why I never really got into painting. I am a mess.

I will of course post a picture of the finished product as soon as it can be called as such. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise before then.