Monday, 18 January 2016

Musing On Muses

It could have been anyone.

People called often, after all. Some wanted a basic drawing of their mother from a blurry photo on their phone as they desperately hoped it wouldn’t seem like a last second present. Some wanted huge oil paintings for their lobby, and tried to convince me that doing it for free was worth it.

I was more interested in the jobs in the middle of those extremes, but they had dried right up, and I was feeling low, and thought I needed a muse.

And in walked the most beautiful psycho girlfriend an artist could have…

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