Amanda is a Hamilton, ON based watercolour painter, sewing instructor, knitter, mother, and generally crafty person!

Please feel free to look around and hopefully be inspired in your own making!

Unwanted Fish Paintings Are Like Those Unexpectedly Tasteless Clementines In The Big Box of Clementines

Unwanted Fish Paintings Are Like Those Unexpectedly Tasteless Clementines In The Big Box of Clementines

fishpainting

One day my mom showed up at my apartment with a painting of two fish.

It's not a great painting. Especially for an art school graduate who is trained to be hypercritical of all things mundane and poorly painted.

"I bought you this."

"Why would you do that to me?"

"You asked me to."

Silence.

"Didn't you....ask me to buy you a painting of fish?"

Silence.

"In hindsight, that was a dream."

Silence.

"Okay, well I'll leave it here, then, shall I? And you can think about wether or not you want to keep it."

So instead of heaving it down the stairs I respected the fact that my mom is very sweet if a little bit off her rocker and even attempted a weak smile as I lifted it on a shelf where I could look at it every day and remember that I am a sucker.

You would think that eventually I would get rid of this painting and live the rest of my life happily ever after. But I moved and it came with me and now lives in my bedroom where I can see it as soon as I wake up every day. Mom came and asked why I hadn't hung it up at which point I confessed that I don't really like it. She looked appalled. I asked her to please take it home. She looked even more appalled."Where would I put it?" she spluttered. "I would have to put it in the rec room! There's no place for it!"

The rec room is a room in the basement where nobody EVER sits. Seriously, it is a room that was used solely by the cat, and now that she is dead it's basically a room to put photo albums in. It also has only two pieces of art hanging on it's walls. But it's not like I was going to point that out.

I was reminded of this yesterday because Jay threw his back out and was forced to spend the weekend in bed munching on Robaxacet and staring at the fish painting. I kept getting texts like "I keep finding myself staring at the fish painting." and "It's weird. Heh. I don't know why I keep looking at it."

It obviously has to go since I now think those fish might be alien hypnotists in disguise.

Anyways, conveniently, I "had a dream last night" that my mom called and asked me to bring her back the fish painting. So soon it won't be my problem anymore.

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