By the time a Pacific Northwest wind and rainstorm tossed a child’s painting onto my doorstep, the resulting portrait of “My Dad” looked like an abstract carnival hit warp speed and collided with a tornado. Yes, one could interpret many messages about “My Dad,” such as the following: Dad is a busy circus performer with no time to slow down; Dad is an actual blob of smeared paint; Dad drinks heavily. However, I chose to interpret the wind-blown, rain soaked piece of art as a sign—a sign that I must also do art—and perhaps leave it in the rain so that Nature could finish it, because actually, I kind of liked what the storm did to “My Dad.” He was transformed into something completely unexpected, but also kind of pretty at the same time.
Today though, it’s miraculously not raining, but that’s not a problem in my house (see last week’s post: “A Leaky Cat Leads to Leaks”). I know that if I wait long enough, Nate might use the “fancy (sexy) tub” upstairs to wash his feet after stepping in cat litter, and then somehow the water will build up, and it would “rain” through my ceiling for sure. But Nate has not stepped in any cat litter—and probably won’t today—so my chances for leaks are very slim. I’ll have to create my own rainstorm.
I’ll also have to create a subject for my painting. Anyone who has read this blog knows that I’m bitterly disappointed that I’ve lived in the state of Washington for over three years now, and I can’t seem to cross paths with an orca. So, if I want to see an orca, I’m going to have to paint one myself. And that’s just what I’ve done here—with a little help from Alex because the original orca I tried to paint was actually three frolicking orcas that, together, looked like one large male body part, which was not what I had intended at all. Here is the resulting painting that Alex helped me with:
All I had to do next was create the wind and rainstorm. So, I found a spray bottle that was already filled with saltwater for some reason. Then, I liberally spritzed the painting with the saltwater. Next, I got out the hair dryer to try to create the effect of “wind,” but now that I look at the resulting painting again, I think that maybe the orca looks like it’s exploding—and smoke is coming out of its blowhole. It’s terrifying, really. I’d never want to see a giant, smoking orca emerging from the water—not one that looked like this anyway:
Of course, I had to get an opinion from Nate. Here it is:
Still, I can’t help but wonder what that orca would look like if I let it take shape in the actual wind and rain. What if “My Dad” met “My Orca?” What if that crazy carnival-of-color Dad swooped in to douse the smoking orca? I think I know the answer: I’d have the perfect greeting card. Yep, I’d have a unique greeting card indeed—fit for any occasion, like “Thinking of You” and “Get Well Soon.”
In Other News: My first short story publication for 2020 is online. It’s called the Wind Up Key and it’s in the literary magazine, Defenestrationism. The link is here.
Your Turn: If you could paint anything, what would it be?