Art and Spontaneous Profanity

Did you ever screw up something so bad, profanity spontaneously sprang from your lips? I’ve been working on these pour/paint resin panels, which include many hours and a fat slice of my little art budget. I spent hours on one, mixed the resin with a kitchen scale and left it to harden. I dutifully covered it with an elevated sheet of foam core board to keep off dust motes. Yeah, it looked good.

A few hours later I went back to check and the foam core had sagged onto the resin and was now forever part of the painting.

“F**K TOAD!” I spontaneously exclaimed. In the midst of my despair I realized that this was a ridiculous expletive. Where did THAT come from? I mean, what the heck is a f**k toad?

I worked feverishly on the mess and finally cut off the foam core/paint, semi-hard resin and all down to the original board. It looked like crap-but maybe I can fix it. I’ll let you know, the jury is still out on that one.

The jury is in on f**k toad, though. I’ve decided F**k Toad is a sort of demon which hopped into the kitchen, leaped onto the the foam core board and rode it gleefully down to the sticky resin. His goal, besides general destruction, was to make me cuss.

Score: F**k Toad 1, Je’ 0.

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