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| I want it to look just like this. I need some dangerous stuff. |
I am prone to pursuing unrealistically ambitious
ideas that pique my interest. When I was 12 we went to the state fair
and I saw some pumpkins that were beautifully carved in bas-relief.
Some great artists had done some amazing work rendering people and
scenes into the flesh of their vegetables and I wanted in on that
glory. It was almost Halloween anyway so when we got home I set about
securing my pumpkin canvas upon which I would carve my immortal
masterpiece. I went and bought a fairly large pumpkin from one of our
neighbors and then got all of my most sharp and dangerous tools to
render my work with. I had all of this set out on the kitchen table
because that is where all of the juicy projects happened in the
house. While I started to carve and realize that bas-relief carving
was probably harder than drawing, a skill at which I am crap. I tried
a couple of starts but was mostly just getting frustrated and
depressed when my little brother, ten years by junior and therefore a
little toddler wandered in to help. He was nosing around and picking
stuff up and I had told him not to several times.
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| One of these bad boys right here. |
While I was trying
one more time to get started on a beautiful object d'art he picked up
one of those orange utility razors and in one quick motion slid the
blade all the way out and then instantly drew it across the palm of
his hand cutting himself to the bone. My mom rushed him to the
hospital where he had to get several stitches to close up the gaping
wound in his hand. Somehow, my mom and dad felt that my little
brother, their charge and responsibility, had his hand badly cut by
reason of some sort of negligence on my part. I got into big
trouble, never got to finish my nascent masterpiece and had to chip
in on the hospital bill to boot. It turns out I was my brothers
keeper and I didn't do that good of a job.
