This is Hershey, my husband's dog. Though I consider her to be plotting my demise (despite her lack of coherent thoughts and inability to concentrate on anything but the occasional fetch toy) , she has lately become my muse. A friend of mine asked me recently if I was still painting, and I admitted that I wasn't and hadn't in over a year. It prompted me to try and pursue this God-given talent through guilt more than anything. I am now painting a portrait of Hershey for my husband's birthday. It is almost halfway complete. I won't finish it in time, but I will finish it.
Yup, the dog that ate the wedding favors, rolls in cat poop and tore up her expensive memory foam bed will become immortalized through art....have my own hands betrayed me?! Perhaps she's getting into my head...
