December 2, 2010
Yesterday, something awful almost happened. I was working in the studio when my husband called. He needed to ask me something right away. I had a plastic container of acrylic paint and a paintbrush in my hands. Absent-mindedly, I stuck the brush into the paint, and put it on a nearby table. Out cat – a nosy animal – immediately jumped onto the table. My intuition made me turn around at that moment, and I saw that the paint container was just about tipping onto the cat. I screamed so loudly that, instead of getting splattered with paint, ran away, and hid under the bed in the other room for the next hour. I told my husband about what happened, who was still on the other line, hearing the sounds, but not knowing what was going on. He reasoned that our cat had almost turned into an art installation. I told him (as my mind painted the picture of a clean shaven cat, since acrylic paint doesn’t come out of anything) that first, there would have been something more like performance art.
This is why I can’t see myself getting a dog. I can’t guarantee being able to prevent the occurrence accidents and victims. Once, a friend of mine came over with a wonderful Labrador Retriever. We popped into the kitchen for just a moment. When we returned, the dog was licking the canvas, which was covered with a mixture of glue and chalk. If cats are hard enough to manage, then dogs just aren't meant for an artist's studio.