Updated Quotation: I am a great artist and I know it. The reason I am great is because of all the suffering I have caused. (The Reluctant Astronaut who further declared Paul Gauguin was worthless and weak and should have been tagged for vaporization but unfortunately was already dead - the coward.)
The R.A. is a tortured artist (come to think of it, he is actually a "torturing artist.") His preferred medium is Sharpie marker on hard wood floor although occasionally, when feeling frivolous and a certain joie de vivre will use a white wall as his canvas. The R.A. is tortured because his artistic genius is not celebrated but rather met with hostility by the ignorant masses (his parents.) Unfortunately his public (us) feels like we are suffering for his art. As with everything concerning the R.A. it isn't so much art as another tool of destruction just more colorful.
The R.A.'s art is also fraught with ritual, like so many aspects of his life. His artistic endeavors go something like this:
Step 1: Despite his parents having gone over the house looking for Sharpie markers like a HAZMAT team at a nuclear power plant, the R.A. procures a Sharpie marker.
Step 2: The R.A. unleashes his full artistic fury on the largest and most visible floor space.
Step 3: The R.A. is discovered in mid artistic flourish by one of the meddling Philistines (a parent.)
Step 4: Yelling commences. The Philistine yells, "NO!" upon seeing the further desecration of the hard wood floor. The R.A. yells, "NO!" because the Philistine has the temerity to interrupt yet another masterpiece.
Step 5: The traditional "Sharpie Marker Wrestling Match" ensues at the end of which there is more Sharpie marker on the participants than on the floor.
Step 6: Upon being deprived of his instrument the R.A. unfurls a tapestry of alien curses which addresses his frustration at our small mindedness and unreasonableness. Again.
Step 7: Vicious chinning commences.
This past Saturday the R.A. outdid even himself when it comes to his artistic relentlessness. I was in the second floor bathroom having a swell time cleaning and disinfecting. The R.A. was in my bedroom, supposedly watching one of his shows. I never leave the R.A. unmonitored for more than a couple of minutes at a time because that's all the time he needs to climb something inappropriate or color something inappropriate. So after a short time I did check on the R.A. and discovered him "creating" the heck out of a portion of my floor with a black Sharpie marker. Following proper protocol we engaged in the sanctioned "Art Ritual" (refer to Steps 1 - 7 above.) After Step 7 I did a sweep of drawers and shelves to make sure there were no other Sharpie markers. Determining there were none, I departed back to the bathroom for some more enjoyable disinfecting.
A few minutes went by and I returned to the bedroom to find the R.A. once again coloring the floor with yet another black Sharpie marker. I couldn't believe it as I had engaged in Sharpie recon. The R.A. and I once again participated in the "Art Ritual." I double-double checked the area for rogue Sharpie markers and finding none, headed back to the bathroom.
After a few minutes of some delightful cleaning, I went back to the bedroom to discover the R.A. vigorously coloring the floor with a green Sharpie marker. What the heck? Not only had I double checked the parameter, but now he was pulling out colored Sharpies! Where did he get that? I didn't even know we owned colored Sharpies. We engaged in the "Art Ritual." This time, after re-double double checking the area for markers I remained in the room to see if I could ascertain where the R.A. was keeping his stash. We both tried to act casual, as if we weren't carefully observing each other - "Just chillin'. No big deal. Just hangin.'" After several minutes of attempting to look at each other while not looking like we were looking at each other, I returned to the bathroom.
Shortly after I went back to the bedroom to see the R.A. on the floor with an orange Sharpie marker. Seriously? Where the heck are they coming from? We then partook of the traditional "Art Ritual" which I must admit that by this point we were both extremely frustrated therefore the wrestling and yelling were a bit more energetic than usual.
After Step 7, I lurked outside the bedroom and peeked my head in the room hoping to catch the R.A. in the act of obtaining a Sharpie. The R.A., sitting in the middle of the floor sans marker, looked right at me, his expression saying, "Oh, hello. How nice to see you. May I help you with something as I sit here doing absolutely nothing remotely naughty?" We repeat this newest interaction several times. Either the R.A. has run out of markers or I am, in fact, as dumb as I look.
Apparently I am as dumb as I look because a few minutes later I discover him hard at work coloring the bedroom floor with a pink Sharpie marker. This time all heck breaks loose as we had really had it with each other. There's yelling, yowling, wrestling, wrangling, and intense chinning. I'm sure the Battle of Bull Run was more sedate.
Thankfully, at this juncture my husband interrupts the scrimmage as he needs my help shoveling our blizzard attacked driveway. I gladly deposit the R.A. into his secure room. The R.A. looks like a psychedelic trip's version of a colorful yet angry Leprechaun. It goes to show you how spent I was because the prospect of shoveling two feet of snow was a welcomed break.
Neither my husband or I have been able to determine the source of the Sharpie markers, especially the colored ones. We both swear we've never purchased colored Sharpies. They must be from the R.A.'s war arsenal.
The good news is that I believe I have seized all the Sharpie markers as lately the R.A. has been relegated to pens and pencils which he does not use on the floor. Obviously this is because their marks are too easy to remove from hard wood. Today, however, he was using a yellow highlighter. He did not use this directly on the floor but rather this was utilized primarily and vigorously on paper, any paper he could get his hot little hands on - scrap paper, bills, school reports, envelopes, work reports, and curiously, his socks. My theory is that the R.A. resorted to these items because the yellow doesn't show up very well on hard wood floors. What good is artistic genius if one can't see it?
Our house is resplendent with the R.A.'s creations and the creative process is never ending. We have stopped being so fussy about our floors and walls opting to put off re-doing everything until the R.A. finally outgrows this "Sharpie Marker" phase. I figure we'll be tacking the floors and walls in 20 to 30 years.
*Update: While writing this post my husband and the R.A. were up in our bedroom "Watching TV" (euphemism for my husband napping and the R.A. teetering dangerously on unsteady objects). The R.A. punched my husband in the calf and demanded juice. When his dad returned to the bedroom he discovered the R.A. attempting to hide a black Sharpie marker behind his back. Apparently replacement munitions have arrived from the home planet.
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