Lately, I’ve been feeling the insatiable urge to paint a masterpiece. Which is great, if you know what to do it of.
Which I didn’t.
So I did what any self-respecting teenager would do—I turned to my mother for help. WHY, I don’t know, since she never suggests anything decent (AKA anything I like), but there it is.
I said, “Mom, what should I paint?”
And promptly regretted it.
What follows is the real, unaltered version of our conversation. I was taking notes.
My dear mother scrunched her face up and thought very long and very hard. In fact, she thought so long and hard, I actually began to wonder if a semi-decent idea was going to come forth from her brain. Then her face lit up. I scooted forward in anticipation, hanging onto the words she had yet to utter. She turned to me, looking monstrously pleased with her grand creativity, and let forth what is probably the most awe-inspiring suggestion the 21st century has ever heard.
“You should draw the pile of dead orcs Éomer burned on the edge of Fangorn!”
She was completely serious.
I said no in every language I can speak. (Which is one.) So she went back to thinking.
“How about Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli running across the plains of Rohan with broken toes, broken ribs, and a dislocated knee?”
I politely inquired why she couldn’t have simply left it at “Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli,” and received a vague answer that only furthered my conviction to not draw it. So she went back to thinking.
“Paint Gollum smacking a fish to death in the… what’s it called, the Banned River thing?”
For your information, it’s the Forbidden Pool, and no, I am not painting that.
“DRAW BALIN’S TOMB!!!”
(Except she couldn’t remember that his name was Balin, so it came out as more of a, “DRAW THAT ONE GUY—*insert random hand flapping*—you know, the one with like, the thing, and the… *more hand flapping and some vague gestures at her face* Oh, you know, he was always really pessimistic—DRAW HIS TOMB!!!”)
I hope you all remember what’s in Balin’s tomb, because the contents of that place were permanently scarring to my delicate fourteen year old self.
Yeah. I’m not painting that either.
“Paint the green dead people!”
It will never cease to amaze me how many times we’ve seen Lord of the Rings, and she STILL doesn’t know that they are the Men of Dunharrow. Sheesh. Get it right, mom.
“Hey, you should draw the mouth of Sauron!”
I actually briefly considered this.
“Well I don’t know!” she huffed when I dismissed yet another of her ideas. “Paint what you want. Paint a tree.”
So basically, we go from every grisly aspect of Middle-Earth, be it broken bones, murdered fish, or decomposed dwarf, to…
I painted Arwen instead.
Yes, she’s blue, and yes, that was semi-intentional. It’s… art. *cough* Yeah. It invokes emotion. So there.
Moral of the Story: If you want to know every horrible aspect of Lord of the Rings, ask my mother, because she remembers them all—and is quite gleeful about it, too.
PS. I apologize to any and all personages who haven’t read or watched LotR, because this obviously hasn’t made a whole lot of sense to you. Oops.