for those who read my article in issue #90 of the Artist Palette (Australia), you will remember this story from last year, and for those who have not read the magazine...this is what happens when you think you know what you are doing...
I like to get lots of things done at once where I can, so I decided to work on several flooded canvases all at once. The colouring went perfectly and I set all of the canvases on my table in two rows, all butted up against each other so I could work quickly.
I mixed the resin and began pouring into the canvas backs...all the while adding more pieces to my work...for those who don't know about resin I will explain to you that from the moment you mix in the catalyst/hardener it begins to set and the more time you take to pour it...the more trouble you are asking for!
About seven or eight minutes had passed from pouring the first fill, so when I now went to tip my jug, a huge gluggy blob of resin oozed on to the canvas...I watched for a moment to see if it would level out but it just sat there...grinning at me...don't try and tell me it wasn't laughing in defiance because I know it was!...I called it names "stupid sticky snot blob", this didn't help...I know it would have flipped me the bird if it could have moved.
I rolled my eyes and did that funny mouth thing that people do when they are trying to figure out what to do. I decided the only thing to do was to pick up the blob and discard it.
Now it's at this time that I need to point out to you that I was wearing my one and only perfectly clean and paint free black slacks, no apron and although I do wear gloves when mixing, I had discarded them for pouring.
Without a thought I picked up the blob...
and at that very moment my then six year old son came in to ask me something and the phone in the "sewing room" began ringing.
I swear...and yes I actually did...that the next 90 seconds happened in slow motion...
I slam dunked the blob into the bin, vaulted over my son, bolted down the passageway, grabbed the phone with the least sticky hand whilst wiping the other hand on my pant leg...all without thinking.
More swearing followed...wrong number!!!
It was now time to inspect the damage...
#1 phone has dried resin on the hand piece
#2 slacks ruined
#3 I had some how gotten resin on my son's forehead and in his hair
#4 resin blob had not gone in to the bin but had oozed down the side and on to the rug
and the moral of this story?...there isn't one.
I'm human, I'm not perfect...I bought new slacks, the phone still has my hand print in resin on it, I trimmed the resin from my son's hair and the rug. I can laugh at myself...can you?