Today I’m at a loss for content, so what I’m gonna do is I’m going to bite the bullet and write a post based on a Daily Post writing prompt. What’s the harm in that, right? Well, actually, today’s writing prompt is “If you could paint your current mood onto a canvas, what would that painting look like? What would it depict?” So, yes, there’s plenty harm in that. If there’s one thing that makes me squirm, besides suddenly discovering there’s a pregnant daddy-longlegs on the back of my neck, it’s talking about my mood/emotions as myself. That’s sort of what I have fiction for.
But then again, this prompt kind of compensates for such reticence. It’s not asking that you write about what you’re feeling; it’s instead asking that you sort of paint about what you’re feeling. In word form, of course. But I can totally do that.
But I’m not only gonna describe the painting itself—I’m going to describe the fictional painter too. In this case, it’s going to be my beloved blog character “The Blog-Post Assassin.” He hasn’t had an acting job in quite a while, so he can use the work.
“Bill Carson’s Present Mood,” Starring The Blog-Post Assassin
The Blog-Post Assassin walks into the room and lowers his Ray-Ban sunglass a la 80’s Tom Cruise in order to take full advantage of this rare acting opportunity. He wants to look cool. He succeeds. He’s not even looking at what the script says he’s supposed to be looking at; he’s, instead, thinking only about how cool he probably looks lowering his glasses like a Tom Cruise. Finally, he remembers he has a job to do.
The canvass stands on a dusty wooden tri-pod, directly beside a little bench with all these buckets of paint lined up. You can tell what color they are because the last person to use them was clearly a sloppy bastard and let the cans drool all over themselves, revealing their colors. There’s a few rock hard paintbrushes of various bristle types strewn about the paint-spotted surface of the bench.
Here’s The Blog-Post Assassin’s big acting moment. He “nervously” squeezes his hands and bares his teeth and goes over to the paint cans. His expensive leather shoes shuffle on the dry, pasty floor. With the eager pizazz of a starving man attacking a bowl of Cambell’s Chunky Soup, he scoops up the bottle of red paint and pours it down his face. Much of it collects in his mouth like rainwater in a pothole. He puts down the red and picks up the blue, the yellow, the rest of them, each time pouring the color down his face and collecting some in the pothole of his mouth.
When he starts gargling, the sound echoes on the walls. It sounds like a washing machine tearing itself apart due to your putting too many pairs of jeans in there at the same time. He gargles and gargles and while he’s doing it he makes a face like he wants to scream at the world if only his mouth wasn’t so full of paints. Then, quite unexpectedly, a mouse scurries by behind him. It offers him a squeak as a sort of thanks for the off-the-books room and board.
The squeak puts such a fright into the madly gargling Blog-Post Assassin that he vomits his oral depository of colors all over the canvass. It splashes and drizzles and runs down the egg-white surface, forming first the outline, then the glorious details, of a little orange tabby cat sitting on the couch in some living room watching a Geicko commercial—it’s the one with the Gecko on the mini sailboat.
The Blog-Post Assassin wipes his mouth with a nearby newspaper, then leaves the room to take a face shower.
Check out—and possibly participate in—the Daily Post writing prompt at: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/frame-of-mind/
Check out Blog-Post Assassin’s critically acclaimed first mission at: “I Will Hire a Blog-Post Assassin”