My studio gets a bit crowded at times. Ghosts from my childhood stand around waiting to be recognized. They are always friendly, just not always helpful. Yesterday it was Mr. Todas telling me about Mr. Nolan. I really didn't have time to hear about Mr. Nolan, I had a painting I wanted to finish before the end of the day. I listened to Mr. Todas tell me how Mr. Nolan lost his sight because of a gas attack in the first World War, leaving him a very angry man. “Never leave your toys on the sidewalk where Mr. Nolan will have to kick them out of his way,” Mom told us. I guess that's why I stop sometimes and put things away in the studio when I am busy with painting. “Never think bad of Mr. Nolan,” Mom told us.
I was having trouble placing a cow in my painting. Mr. Todas came forth with some advice - nothing to do with my cow problem though. My ghosts are like that. Couldn't see how watering my geraniums would help with my cows… While watering my geraniums, I see the problem with my painting. Ghosts just pop up at times with advice not even remotely helpful, then I see the problem. I scraped off the cow and took a deep breath, watering my windowsill geraniums for Katie Linster and Mr. Todas. Sure enough, I got my cows right with my second attempt. Mr Todas went back to reading the paper to Mr. Nolan, which was what he did in the corner of the studio. Katie went back to sewing. Uncle Melvin approved of the cows I'd been playing with in my landscapes, though he did have questions about the clouds that seem to be creeping into my work lately. A knock on my door and everyone scattered.
Ann and Addie, from down the hall, came for their daily visit. Addie is Ann's little dog. Now Ann doesn't see my visitors but I think Addie does, Addie is always staring up at something and sniffing around my canvas rack where Sportie, Katie's dog, runs when visitors come.
With the visit over, I return to my painting and my friendly ghosts return. Now why did I like that blue for the cloud? Has to be more than for its name, Paris Blue. Kim says I like it. It made her jeans look sexy in the painting of her. “Do you want sexy clouds?” Uncle Hank asks. “Stick to the blues I taught you to use,” my art teacher interjects. So many voices sticking their nose in. Time to sit back and watch the clouds drift by my window and unpack my new frames. Put a few things away before Mr. Nolan kicks them out of his way, and then back to the cows and that Paris Blue thunder cloud. Moans from my friends and more questions about blue clouds.
It's my painting. I want blue thunderclouds, at least let me turn the grey clouds with my blue.
