As if I wasn't having a long enough day already, I just realized I miscalculated just how much the paint would contract on the canvas I'm working on. The frame I built has totally buckled and I'm going to have to remount it. Anyway, I'm going to take the crap factory out for a walk, hopefully someone tries to pick a fight with me. I'd love an excuse to get my hands bloody.
Hell, my hands are always bloody.
That's not a painting. It's an undercoat at best. I paint all paintings three times, once for every element of the trinity. The holy ghost lays the foundation and the underlying power. The father provides the wisdom, guidance, and education, but the son turns it all into art and lights it on fire.
My job is mostly to sniff the fumes.
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