I’m not upset anymore. Nothing bothers me, not large things, not little things, not even cat poop in my meditation room, not even shooting magenta ink all over my work table and a portrait waiting to be framed. How did that happen?
In order to save on the cost of ink for my wide format printer, I decided to buy bulk ink and refill the 220 ml cartridges with a hypodermic needle that would sedate an elephant. But as my wife and I learned how to do this, part of the trial and error was spraying the room with bright red ink. Rather than cuss and cry and find fault with each other for not holding the needle right, we each tried to inject the ink and had a turn at spraying the room (I think my wife’s spray went a little farther than mine, but I didn’t measure it).
We were like two kids left at home alone whose play got them into mischief. The more damage we did the funnier it got. It got really insane when the portrait got sprayed. It looked like we had just killed a chicken or cut an artery. It was an ER not a photography studio.
A customer walked in to get her order, and I had to tell her—huge needle in hand dripping red blood with splatters on my glasses—that we weren’t conducting a blood sacrifice. Who knows what she thought yogis did. I couldn’t take a chance.
Yes, now I know what kids feel like when play gets out of hand. “Just wait till Mom and Dad get home!”
“Hey, guess what—they already are.”
Posted under General Observations
This post was written by ed on May 22, 2007
