Fur In The Paint

So I’m back, (as in just arrived home 20 minutes ago) from Two Rivers Art Expo in Des Moines. (I’ll tell you all about it next post.) But seeing as I’m hopped up on about 4 liters of Diet Coke (caffeine, my drug of choice) I thought I’d pop in for a quick post.

Hey . . . aren’t you?
I was recognised this weekend at the art expo. And while that’s not so odd (I mean I get recognised all the time as that horse painter Mona, or increasingly often from my Apples ‘n Oats column or even as Wild Faces Gallery.) But this weekend I got recognised for a different reason.

A woman was looking at my booth and then turns to me and says “Are you the artist?” I nod and say “Yes” Then she says, “Hey . . . aren’t you Fur In The Paint?” I went “Ahhhhh . . .” (because the wheels were turning, but I couldn’t quite get my mouth to engage.) After about 3 seconds of hesitation I say “Yes, yes I am.”

This was then followed by a few awkward moments (by me) because I was a little weirded out. My mind kinda flew through my blog entries searching for anything that I should feel embarrassed about. I mean this woman knows all about me. Personal and intimate stuff. While I know nothing about her. She had me at a distinct disadvantage.

You know, like when you were a teenager and your date comes to the house to get you. You make him wait a few minutes so you can make your grand entrance. And when you finally come down the stairs, you find out he has spent the last 15 minutes or so, looking through the family photo album at all your baby pictures. I was kinda like that.

None-the-less as she walked away I thought to myself, “Coooool!“