Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States

Monday, December 27, 2010

Recently acquired art

A raccoon lives in the painting of a farmhouse that hangs on my bedroom wall. I bought it at a garage sale for six dollars, the cost of six scratch-off lottery tickets, which is about a dollar's worth of fun, but if fun in your life is at a premium, I see nothing wrong with the lottery.

Sometimes the raccoon fills the foreground entirely, warm and fuzzy and irate.

"What a cute mask," I say as I tap on the glass.

It hisses and gives a little raccoon bark.

"What a funny little nose you have," I say as I tap again.

It snaps, flinging rabies against the glass. The frame rattles and threatens to fall.

Even if it does fall, raccoon, I always have my art framed with plexiglass and extra tacks. You're in there for good, you two dimensional bastard.


Blogger sybil law said...

Raccoons aren't so bad - I'm really glad it's not a possum! Ick. Those things make me ill.

9:39 AM  
Blogger JMH said...

Is it their little baby hands? If it weren't completely inappropriate and probably criminal, I'd like to replace an unattended baby in a stroller with a mostly sedated possum, with the full intention of returning the baby of course.

Yeah, that would not go over well.

9:16 PM  
Blogger jorg wobblington lopez said...

This brings new meaning to realism. And still life. I hate real lifes. So needy/insane.

5:49 PM  
Blogger JMH said...

Ha! Yes.

9:07 PM  

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