This is a flower painting of mine, that is as I recall, or I may have bought it at a garage sale (depending on what my lawyer wants me to say). The flowers all came from a nearby park. I didn’t think the rangers would mind terribly if I snipped a few. I’ve always found wild flowers appreciate being trimmed.
Of course, to be safe, I had a back up plan. I left my stock car running (actually I always leave it running – it spews so much smog it keeps the back yard mosquitoes in check), and had a loaded 9mm in case things got ugly.
I don’t think the rangers saw me dashing off with my bundle of cosmos (they were busy removing the salt lick I placed for the deer – the season is coming up soon and with gas being what it is I figured I would just hunt in the local state park), but I sped away narrowly missing some pedestrians who were only two steps into the crosswalk. I’ve always found people walking with those white canes are slow to get across the street. I knew I could beat them, and hey, what’s more important their feelings that I had been a bit rude, or the masterpiece that I was surely going to paint.
I was able to discard my camo clothes by chucking them out the window. There were some street cleaners nearby that probably needed them anyway. Did you ever drive naked on hot leather seats? Don’t!
I was so busy shifting from cheek to cheek to keep from getting 3rd degree burns that I almost missed some plums on my neighbor’s tree. Overhanging the sidewalk, they looked like fair game, er fruit to me. They’d look great in my still life. The owners of that tree couldn’t possibly eat all of them. I helped myself. That damn yappy dog of theirs (the one that consistently refuses the poisoned hamburger I toss over the fence) barked at me, but not for long after I sprayed him in the face with the ammonia bottle I keep for just such occasions. That dog is so bothersome.
Once I finished this painting, I knew I’d go down in the annals of painting history as one of the finest flower painters of all time and that it would be worth every bit of hassle I went through.
Oh, and let’s not tell Bill – I painted this from a photo. Nah, that’s a lie, I just like to torment him. He won’t eat my hamburger either.