"Camping"

I moved the train and finished my latest painting.  I was feeling pretty darned pleased with myself when I got out the bottle of Liquitex acrylic medium to finish it.  I put on 2 coats of gloss varnish, and went to the store for a new bottle of matte.  When I got home that night I used the dregs of the old bottle of matte on my painting. 

Just so you know, matte finish isn't as durable as gloss which is why I applied the gloss first.  It's helpful too because you can tell if you've missed a spot with the gloss.  Don't fuss with acrylic finishes.  Put them on and leave them alone -- but I noticed some specks.  I fussed it a bit to get things right before setting it aside to dry and going to bed.

Next morning, it the harsh light of day, ohh noo!!  I didn't get all the specks out.  A couple areas looked misty because I'd overworked the finish.  I tried to scrub a couple of the specks and went from misty to cloudy.  This turned into continuing and deepening disaster.  I read online help.  I called a retired chemical engineer.  Nobody offered hope.  I scrubbed, dabbed chemicals, hosed it down in the kitchen sink.  Eventually, I ruthlessly scrubbed the thing with an old toothbrush.

After a while, everything looked fine when the painting was wet.  It looked horrible when dry.  With nothing to lose, I applied the gloss finish over the damp painting.  Success!!!

So, should you ever be faced with the same miserable situation you can try this when all else fails.  You may also be pleased to know that I didn't slap the chemical engineer when he told me to just repaint the whole thing.

After all of this high drama, I was next to a busy road weeding the city's flower pots when a good looking guy waved at me and yelled, "Woohoo!  Beautiful!!!"  It's been a long time since a good looking guy has woohooed me and this lifted my spirits.  At a certain age this doesn't feel like harassment.  Of course it's entirely possible he was praising my flower pots, but whatever.  I'll take it.

And yes, my painting does address camping.  The name tag tucked behind the wash cloth is from my days as a teenaged camp counselor for "slow" kids.  The kids were sweethearts and they weren't slow in any of our activities.  Teaching them to draw and study salamanders was fun.  I applauded at their somersaults off the diving board.  We skipped down the trail and sang.

My duties got expanded to include lifeguarding institutionalized developmentally disabled ("retarded") adults.  This was more challenging because they don't remember instructions.  Rule #1: do not go in the pool before the lifeguard gets there.  I can't tell you how many times I found an obese person on the bottom of the pool, and I still wonder about the other counselors who would leave them by a pool unattended.

I don't know why the skinny people didn't drown themselves, but it was always a 300-400 pounder at the bottom of the pool.  To make things worse, the rest of the class had a hard time understanding I needed help getting that person out of the pool.  They all agreed it was really, really funny when the drowned person puked on me after I gave them mouth-to-mouth and got them living again.  I was puked on too many times to count.  Character building, right?  I loved that job, and I loved all my kids and my kids in adult bodies.

I'm especially proud of my apple!