And then I became an abstract artist while drinking wine.

So last night I met up with some of my girlfriends to drink a little wine and paint a little picture. You know, as you do on a Tuesday night. 

And while I was pretty confident in my ability to not become a famous painter, I must say that it was way more fun than I thought it would be and also, I'm choosing to see it as a life affirming moment - affirming that I am, indeed, in my correct chosen profession and should not drop everything, move to Tuscany, and start painting landscapes.

Wait, unless they give me wine and chicken wings there, too. Do they? Then I'll consider it. Because I'm flexible like that, as most creative types are. 

Anyway, of the four of us, only Kate had done this Paint n' Drink thing before. Oh, and I should point out now that Kate is pretty much that girl who's good at everything she tries and we still stay friends with her because friends allow friends to outshine one another on a regular basis. It's called being supportive. 

However, the rest of us aren't too shabby, either. Natalie is creative right down to her bones, and Beth is not only a perfectionist, but someone who keeps her creativity to herself until it comes time to like, whip up a car/mermaid cake for her kids' birthday party (true fact) or paint a New York City skyline perfectly while being like "Oh, I'm not all that artsy." Whatever Beth. Nobody believes your lies. 

Oh, and let's not forget me, you guys. I mean, it's possible that within 90 seconds of the teacher telling us how badly acrylic paint stains your clothing and to perhaps roll up your sleeves and be careful, I flung my large paint brush dipped in white paint aggressively to the floor by accident, splattering it on the chair and maybe my hands? 

And so I was like "I'm pretty sure more wine is in order. Masters of their craft need to be inspired." 

We were off to a good start. 

So basically the way it works is that an art teacher is at the front of the class, has an example of what we'll be painting, and then walks you through it, step by step, making you feel like "who needs this teacher? I'm a natural! This sky is killin' it." And then you, like, can't figure out how to mix your colors without making a weird green color that doesn't appear in the painting and you're like "Where'd that teacher go? She needs to guide me."

And it's awesome. 

Of course, true to form, Beth and I followed directions to the tee - I mean, Beth more than me, because I get bored kind of quickly with any type of structured group activity and then I just start chatting with my neighbors to the point that I make Kate giggle while creating her perfect sky and she's like "I can't paint and laugh. Cut it out."

It was hard for me to be pulled away from my art, but I did it.
Also, don't look at Kate or Natalie's pictures next to mine. It'll
just make you feel bad for them that their talent was so obviously
out-shined by mine. 

And it reminded me of school when I'd be confused that my teachers would write "socializes excessively in class and distracts the other students" on every single report card. Because it sounds unlike me. 

Also, creative types cannot be put in a cage, people.

But while Beth and I were listening to every detailed instruction, Kate and Natalie became rebel painters and decided that they didn't want a vertical picture and turned their canvases horizontal. Also, they made the decision not to even paint a skyline! What the...they were going rogue and it was blowing my mind!

However, of course, they were very supportive of my bulky tree and pedestrian skyline and were like "Oh, your snowflakes are great!" Now that's real friendship. 

Of course, once Beth and I got home, we started wondering if we should offer up our works of art to the masses - you know, share our talent with the world - and hang them in the lobby with our apartment numbers and suggested retail prices beneath them. I mean, the doorman thought maybe that wasn't necessary, though I'm pretty sure he considered it. 

But the best part was when I got home, showed it to CB, and he showed me, yet again, why he must legitimately love me. 

CB: "It's like Van Gogh!"
Me: "Ha! Yeah."
CB: "It's like Picasso's blue period."
Me: "Right...."
CB: "Or like Monet's 'Starry Night.'"
Me: "Um, are you an art major or something?"
CB: "We have to find a place to hang it up! But we have to get it framed first."
Me: "Wait, are you serious?"
CB: "Yeah I'm serious, that's really good! Look at that! You painted that. That's impressive!"
Me: "Aw, you really do love me. Because this isn't good. I think it might have been one of the top three worst in the class, and that's a generous estimate."
CB: "Nonsense. We're hanging it up."

And so we will. Because love, apparently, is at least legally blind and I'm all for encouraging that behavior.

Suck it, Pollack. 

Happy Wednesday!