Add your own! And talk about whatever.

I’m hoist on my own petard this evening. When I was away on the last work trip, I encouraged mr. lurker to set up his easel in the kitchen/dining room/sun room area and start on a portrait of our friends for a wedding present because he had it in his head. He was concerned I wouldn’t be okay with the mess, space taken up, and smell of linseed so he needed encouragement. (He can’t just do one painting at a time, so there are now four canvases to maneuver around. He’s just started on blocking it out on the canvas after letting the base layer dry enough to use charcoal on it, and I forgot about his other painting ritual . . . the music. I walked in from the gym to the strains of The Fragile. I appreciate Trent Reznor’s artistry, but I can’t listen to it because distorted electric guitar makes me physically sick to my stomach. So I’m hiding as far away as I can and covering the sound with Jefferson Airplane.