I took a painting class downtown with the goal of meeting cute, artsy girls. Well, that, and to give life to my artistic vision. I once painted a fruit bowl when I was fourteen that my grandmother really liked, so I wanted to see if I could recapture the glory.
Title: Distraction
My instructor is a well-known local artist. She said my painting struck her as “surreal”. I have a sneaking suspicion that is her nice way of saying it “sucks”. But I was still glad for the vague compliment.
The only other guy in the class painted a slick self-portrait. If you want to know men, look no further than what themes we choose in our creative expressions. We are all about women and our egos. There is beauty in that simplicity.
I did manage to hook up through the painting class. With a five to one ratio, it wasn’t hard. Knowing that what a girl paints will tell me more about her secret desires than a two hour conversation, I zeroed in on the girl who painted the soft-focus, wistful female nude in seductive reds and earth tones.
The love was strong in her.
