Sonny Von Gogh?

So, remember the en plein aire event that I had told you about? Well again, this was a joint fundraising venture to raise funds for the purchase of Miss Lassie’s house by our fair isle’s grand cultural quartet.

The fundraising premise involved extending invites to all calibers of artists, to sit in various degrees of dress and / or undress, all with a view to paint, draw, mold or etch-a-sketch, their rendition of Miss Lassie’s house, after which, the artistic renditions would be donated to the National Gallery and subsequently auctioned. The funds would then be used for the ultimate purchase and restoration of the house.

This being a wonderful and noble cause, I dragged Sonny out of bed at 8:00 on a Saturday morning, for us to go and lend our artistry to this endeavor, and it is to my chagrin that I admit that Sonny’s work was actually quite palat-able, for I could actually see the house and all of its offerings in his work. It quite irritated me when the obnoxious little snot proceeded to brag and preen as to the nature of his so-called artistry, and laughed and jeered at my humble attempts. My art was just misunderstood, and was very abstract in nature.

That being said, today I have received an invitation to an Art Outreach Exhibit at the National Gallery, all with a view to see if Sonny’s work will be featured, and possibly sold, or sits in a moldy closet somewhere.

Just know, if his work is indeed featured and auctioned for a bag of money, call Social Services right away.

To hell wid puttin’ the chil’ through school. I goin’ lock him up into a dark, dank, dungen-esque room with a strict directive to “Paint, chil’! Paint!” Even if he has to sever an ear for the realization of his artistic expression, all with a view to support his ever loving Mudda, and maintain her in a manner to which she is unaccustomed.

I done know seh the chil’ will never be the sporting superstar, and so I am still searching for alternate methods by which he can support me in my octogenarian years. He is my grand retirement plan.

And on that optimistic note, I shall now exit.

Ta ta...

'Fro.