My wife is very artistic. She can make any room a bit more homey and welcoming in 3 seconds flat. She's like Martha Stewart without the rap sheet (although I bet it's nicely pressed).
She paints. She decorates. She expresses herself artistically.
Me? Not so much.
I mean, just look at this web page. Oi.
I'm so artistically challenged I think it should be considered a disability. My standard response to any decorating choice my wife give me is "I like the blue one." Doesn't matter if we're talking about about flower vases or candle holding thingies. Doesn't matter if the choices she's giving me aren't even blue.
When I was 5 years old and in kindergarten, we were all assigned the daunting task of drawing a self-portrait.
I drew and drew. I colored. I made thoughtful frowny-faces at the page and drew some more. This was my masterpiece. It was my best artistic creation ever, and I am including everything I've ever done since then, too.
Our teacher was making the rounds, inspecting and praising our work.
I squirmed in my seat, anxious to hear her thoughts.
She paused at my desk.
"Ricky, stay on task. No drawing airplanes."
Are you artistic?