Danger, Will Robinson...

Today's pointless photo is... pointless. But you probably expected that.

For anyone too young or too whatever else to recognise the post title, check here or here. And for the record, I am not old enough to remember Lost In Space. Not first-hand, anyway. Although if a person was to judge from my internet radio playlist in the past few days you'd pretty much come to the conclusion that I'm living in the Sixties as we speak.

Or type.

Well, I type. You read.

And roll your eyes, probably.

Where was I? I mean besides interrupting a perfectly good chairdance just to blog? Oh, that's right. I was in imminent danger.

Of what, you say? It's pretty terrible. Are you sure you want to know?

Really sure?

Really?







Ok, ok, I'll tell you. You didn't have to get so irritated about the whole thing. I'm in serious, grave danger of...

buying art supplies.

No, really. It's a dangerous thing for me to be contemplating buying art supplies. They're my substitute for buying new school supplies, and since we've entered the season of back-to-school ads the urge for that is already pretty strong. That in itself would be enough to make me want to keep myself away from art stores for a while to stop the yearly impulse purchase, but now? Well, now there's a new problem.

I think I may actually need some art supplies.

By need I of course mean want. No one needs art supplies. Not the way a person needs oxygen or water, I mean. My particular art supply want at the moment is somewhat more directed than it normally is, though, so it's rapidly starting to put on its need costume in order to persuade me that I do, in fact, need to make my way to an art store soon. For my own mental health, you know.

And what could be causing this want/need/mental health crisis all of a sudden? Something that I never in a million years thought would be causing a want/need/mental health crisis in my life.

I think I need some brushes.

Let me give you an idea of how weird that statement is. First off, I don't paint. I doodle at the best of times. I've not really ever had a desire to paint. I don't think like a painter; I think in lines. I like it that way. I do.

But.

But but but but...

About a month ago I bought some watercolours. Oh, wait. Rather than type about that all over again, I'll just have you read it here. Quicker for both of us. Or me at least. So, yeah. I bought some watercolours, and I've since been mucking about with them a bit. If you're desperate to see some of the early results you can find them on the other blog, but if you decide to look please keep in mind that I DON'T PAINT.

Anyway, I've been goofing around with the watercolours, and I've discovered that a person needs brushes to paint. Well, mostly. I know that you can do some things with sponges and the like, but if you're going to paint it's almost inevitable that at some point or other you're going to need brushes. And my brushes? Are crap.

For the most part. I have one not-too-bad brush, but all of the others are just cheap craft brushes that I've kept on hand to use for the occasional wash when I've been doodling with watercolour pencils and things like that. That sort of thing doesn't demand much of a brush, and I've since found out that not much of a brush is exactly what I have.

I think I need something that is, in fact, a brush.

I can't believe that I'm thinking of buying brushes. And not just plain brushes. I've been finding myself thinking of sable rounds that actually (gasp!) come to a proper point when you want them to. Wash brushes. Maybe a fan brush...

I think I'm in trouble here.

Anyway, the good thing is that I'm currently in a small town and the stationery store that carries art supplies is likely to have a blessedly limited selection that may keep me from emptying my wallet. For a day. After that I'm headed back to the city and the figurative apple tree.

Er, so to speak.





Wish me and my bank account luck. And warn me if you happen to see any brush-wielding snakes about, all right?