Challenge #00082: The Muse Woos

Julie, Nana, buckets of paint and why artists sometimes get away from themselves.

Nanny the Augmented dog had fallen asleep by Julie’s easel. That much was evident from the paint spatter on her cloak and skirt. And Julie had opened all the paint cans in a flight of colour-inspired fancy. That was evident from the rainbows of new spatter all over the floors and walls.

What wasn’t instantly evident to Raak was how the two of them had got caught in an infinite loop and set off her urgency alert.

“Must finish!” Julie screamed.

“Wash! Dinner Time!” Nanny barked.

Raak blew her whistle, holding up the lanyard with the antiquated Stop sign pictured on it.

Now Julie had paint on her ears. “…loud…” Julie complained.

Nanny was sitting in a literal hangdog pose and whining.

“Take a breath,” said Raak. “Take your time. Julie? This is a very pretty painting.”

“It’s not finished yet,” said Julie. “I gotta get the sky right.” Unhindered, she picked up another pot and a brush and resumed working.

“Dinner time,” Nanny whined. “Bad dog.”

“Where is dinner, Nanny?” Raak asked. The dog’s nap must have taken place sometime after lunch, since everything was put away. Nothing had been taken out, so this looked like a scheduling conflict. Nanny had woken late, near to or around the time to eat, and got into a flap.

“Make dinner. Yes. Good dog. Good Nanny.”

“Fast dinner, Nanny. It’s late.”

Julie stepped back from her canvas, carefully, so as not to waste paint on the floor.

“Almost done?” prompted Raak.

“Don’t know,” Julie frowned. “Something’s… off.”

“It can sit and wait until tomorrow, can’t it?”

Julie shrugged.

“Tidy time, then. Let’s get all the lids on all the right pots, eh?” Julie was still unsettled, but Nanny was back to normal. Little hiccups like this where the reason why zhe had a job with people like Julie and Nanny.

Julie started reciting the colours as she put them together. “Carmine lid, goes on carmine pot.”

Raak lined up potless lids and lidless pots. Zen and the art of mopping up.

“I wanna finish it,” Julie complained as she wandered around her studio space.

“And you will. Tomorrow. It’s late. You’re both tired. You need to eat. Those things are just as important as finishing your work.”

“I’m an artist. Art is what I do.”

“And I’m a therapist,” countered Raak. “But I also breathe, I eat, I go to the toilet…”

Julie giggled.

“We all do lots of things that aren’t our jobs, Julie. Those things are important, too. I take time to relax. I play. I hug my family. When’s the last time you took some time off to have fun, Julie?”

A clear image of the nearest park. On the swings while Nanny pushed. Patting the fluffy chickens in the neighbouring petting zoo. “Um. Probably last month? But I got commissions. People are waiting and I hate waiting.”

“Everyone’s willing to wait for good art, Julie. Take a day off. Relax. Have some fun. And then, when you feel better, you can finish your work.”

Julie bit her lip, still matching pots and lids. “Feels like cheating.”

“It’s not cheating, Julie. It’s recharging.”

Julie’s mouth hung open in happy amazement. “Okay. I recharge.”

“Dinner is ready,” said Nanny. “Time to wash.”

“Okay, Nanny.” Julie sprang up to wash the paint from her hands.

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