Art ruined by the naked artist

“This better be good, otherwise am not doing it” David C Wide.

Time and time again he was tempted to say to his wife: you know you just ruined art for me. But he new better. He had moreover committed the crime and had been handed a fitting punishment. And as a good citizen it was his right and duty to do time for the crime.

He had chosen to make a bed and now that he lay in it, there was no turning back.

His anguish, Peter’s anguish started after his wife Emily discovered the world of makeup. And like every other middle aged woman, she felt the need and the urge to reclaim her youth.

May be it was Maybelline, or maybe she was born with it.

To her, makeup just popped into her life at the right time and Peter was sinking or rather floating in the sea of mid life crisis. Thus the indifference in her.

Perhaps a convertible could do the trick.

To her husband, it was like an amateur artist playing with a canvas that already bore a professional’s work.

Spin it your way.

While she sat at the dressing table at the foot of the bed, girlie, Peter lay under the covers wondering why amateurs practiced their artwork on used canvases. Most of all, why did they ruin art that was already perfect. Was that art in itself or was this artist struggling to invent a new form of art or enjoying a newly found one?

Never mind.

Emily had gone from being comfortable in slipping under the covers in her birth suit to spotting a layer of makeup.


To Peter, it was just another piece of art ruined by a naked artist.


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