I've had it with Honey

I can't stand to look at this painting another minute. It's done. I've gone as far as I could go. It's time to sign it, (I don't know if I want to declare it as one of mine, but I will),date it and kiss it goodbye. I don't think it's too terrible for an amateur's first attempt, but I sure wish I had diagrammed the thing before jumping in. I did learn a lot about glazes from the exercise. So my effort wasn't in vain.

I don't expect Honey to like it either. I never liked the portrait that was done of me when I was fifteen. I didn't like the eyes. I didn't like my hair--when you're fifteen you seldom think you're having a good hair day. So I fixed those things when my parents went out one evening. They never knew.

I took it down from where it hung framed over the piano and I made the eyes bluer and the hair fuller. Honey can't do these things to make himself feel better about the painting. His dislike means the back of the closet for this one--and getting it out of my sight isn't a bad idea. I tend to want to keep working on pictures I've supposedly finished;they're never quite good enough. And where do you think that idea came from? So be kind to your kids moms, they may grow up to be painters.

PS: Honey kept stopping to stare at the painting all last night. I asked him what was he staring at and he said, "I don't like how I look these days." I thought I should have taken off twenty years and added a a bit more hair.