So I tried it out with fellow writer Susie Gilman, my partner, the the Long Suffering Floyd, and the co-creator of my godchildren, Lisa Sloan.
Our initial instinct was to not follow the rules--no cheesy kitsch art for us--but I realized that it's really no different than doing a jigsaw puzzle, an exercise to which none of us would object on the basis that it's not "real art." So we filled in dutifully, using it as a perfectly pleasant task to accompany conversation.
That said, we had our fill by the time we filled in the sky. I mean, those spaces are itty bitty. And I never said I had to finish a New Thing.
Here are Lisa and Susie, the pseudo-artists at work.
3 comments:
Boy I used to love doing those. "Therapy" is what I called them. I think I finished one. Then I moved on to Shrinky Dinks.
(Total aside, we were lost in Portland on our way to California to get married, and I darned near called you for directions on how to get out and head south, but I realized you were probably up to your elbows in your New Thing, so I didn't. So that whooshing sound past your ears on Thursday was you ducking an impossible phone call! But thank you for being there, even if we didn't impose on you. It was kinda reassuring to know you were nearby, y'know, just in case.)
I loved doing those when I was a kid!
You should pass it around, and have each friend paint in one color. Like a colorful chain letter.
Post a Comment