Now before you all go calling Nine-Eleven, it's not like that. Did you notice? It's not bad spelling. It's my attempt at humour. With a capital H. Did it work? No? Oh well. At least throw me a bone and give me an A for the effort.
A year after my first ever art class with my favourite artist and grandpapi to Kao, I signed up for the second round - texture - and it was fun!
It was a split second decision. I had read on his Facebook status that he was starting a new adult class --- on Sundays. I could do Sundays. Those were lazy days anyway and besides, it would be fun. So I said yes. And then I committed the cardinal sin. I missed the first class. Completely. Unknowingly. I was in Belleville visiting family and holed up in a hotel with the man and the dog, while at 11 a.m., my new classmates were learning about the project they would undertake over the next four weeks. One class per week, two to three hours at a time. And I missed it.
Thankfully, my friend knows me and my habit of saying yes to a date and then completely forgetting what that date is -- was it October 8th, 9th, 10th, 17th? Oh who knows. He gave me a make-up lesson, so I hopped in my car after work and made the 30-minute trek to the town of Norval. It's a blink and you'll miss it type of place, but so serene and the perfect backdrop to my friend's gallery-floral shop. Yes, he's both an artist and a florist, sometimes combined.
Now you have to know, I can't draw a straight line, even with a ruler. I don't know why. I just wasn't programmed that way, and that's okay because I have Robbie looking over my shoulder to tell me if my paisley swirl looks like sperm or sperm with an alien head (it did).
But, tracing I can do. And sprinkling on decorative sand over an outline outlined in glue. Next week, we apply the next layer - tinfoil - and then the real fun begins. Colour. I'm having an affair with colour and have all of these ideas of what I can do, what I can combine and the emotion or feeling I'm looking at conveying.
We'll see what comes out of it. And who knows, I may even post it here, even as proof that straight lines and Scribes do not go hand-in-hand. Besides, I don't like conforming to creating ordinary lines. I'm not an ordinary person in an ordinary life.