The Real Twist

I thought it would be a fun activity for the Netherton girls to have a night out, so around Christmas I gave Amy and Ashley each a Painting with a Twist gift card. We finally got around to painting last night.

Ashley and I had each done Painting with a Twist before, but Amy was our rookie. Doesn't she look excited?

Here's the real twist ... I paint better with a little pinot grigio in my system. Don't creativity and booze run hand in hand? Some of the best writers and painters were a nasty mess of a person in real life. I'm not saying I need to be blitzed, but a little pinot would have helped this girl out.

It's a small sacrifice to make.

It also would have helped if our teacher would have told us how to paint a flower rather than just "wiggle, wiggle, wiggle." I ended up with tarantula flowers, according to Amy. Then, my painting partners abandoned me and went rogue to paint flowers using their own artistic expression.

Why can't I just be a rule breaker sometimes? March to my own beat and all that?

We still had a good time. Even drinking O'douls. Well, I drank O'douls. Ashley and Amy were jerks and drank Abita Stawberry.

At the end of the night. These were our masterpieces.

Amy's.

Ashley's.
 

Mine.

I tried to paint over my "wiggle, wiggle, wiggle" tarantula flowers. They ended up looking like Yellow Jackets. I've still got that Jacket Pride. C.E., what, what?

By the end of the class, Ashley and I were over the Irises. You can find us by the back of our heads.

This gives you a better idea of how horrible mine turned out. It's still in the back of my car. In this case, I think alcohol could have improved my fine motor skills. Couldn't have hurt.

These were some of my other class favorites.

I guess she didn't like her's either.

Perfect example of why you don't bring boys to Painting with a Twist.

Especially to paint Irises.