Some house guests are not welcome.
The small creepy-crawlies colonizing our unfinished basement were not invited, and yet there they were: on the wall, on the floor, on the cobwebs I kept walking through, on all our belongings, ON ME. The battle against said trespassers has been an ongoing fight-a fight to the death!
Don’t make that face. I’m not overreacting. I don’t care if by comparison I’m Godzilla and they are the pebbles from a pulverized building. These bugs are everywhere. And they are going DOWN.
So the basement isn’t the most ideal environment for a studio space, but it’s the only place in the house that had enough room and where my mom can contain my “messy” art methods. But, UGH, how my skin crawls when I walk through a cobweb, or when I lift a box to find a roach! So one day after killing four spiders, walking through two cobwebs, and stomping the guts out of a small roach, I marched up the stairs, let out an angry gasp and moaned, “I cannot take this anymore!”
Great, my skin is crawling after I typed that. Wimp, much? Get a grip, K.
Less bug-related whine fests and more art-related posts. Ok? Ok.