I spent a messy, arty day with on of my sister’s this week. She’s a neat freak ( self confessed so she won’t mind me saying this) and yet she gladly covered her kitchen bench with garbage bags and let her ditzy, messy, paint dribbling sibling- spatter, drip and splodge the day away. Doesn’t that just typify the special bond that sister’s have?
I spent a good part of the day creating diversions while I surreptitiously mopped up great swodges and dollops of red and orange paint off her shining black tiles. I was as happy as a pig in…well… a pig in paint. Claudette restrained her natural desire to tidy as we went , although she did have a little outbreak at lunch time and did a quick round up of the stray cups and a bit of a turn up on the plastic on my side of the table where I’d let a river of paint pool, thereby averting an imminent waterfall. I wasn’t entirely oblivious to the almost cascade, just a bit too interested in what was happening on the canvas to pay it the amount of attention it properly deserved! It has to be said that Claudette’s side of the table was far less arty than mine ( code for – on my side there was a lot more paint smeared over the plastic, the floor, my jumper and everything within a 3 foot radius of my hands whilst her side had a few demure drips in a well contained 6 inch radius).
Not all our artistic endeavours were keepers but my sister sure is!