You know what? Art is hard.
You know what makes it harder? Cats.
Seriously. I could have just spent two or three hours staring at a piece of paper, unable to create what I want to create. Finally, the muse hits, and a symphonic melody of pencil and paper emerges. Lines swirl all about in a hypnotic dance; shapes form delicately yet boldly; the work becomes art–MREOOOW!
Oh, great. He’s back.
“What do you want?!” I yell as I turn to face my skinny little rat normal humans call a cat. He gives me no response, only staring with vacant eyes. I rub his head a little, acknowledging his existence, and then return to my work.
It’s not like it was before; the melody is falling apart. But a semblance of that beauty remains. Perhaps I can salvage it–BHUUHMMP!
Oh, well, hi, cat. I was creating art, but I guess there’s nothing wrong with you standing on top of my work with your-your claws. Cat, get down!
Thrown from my desk, the cat looks at me like I’m a villain or something. I mean, how dare I knock him down? He’s a cat, and cats are higher on the food chain than humans.
Two more times this process repeats, and I slowly resign myself to the fact that art is not going to be made today. Thanks, cat.
“You’re welcome, human.” He replies. “Now play with me.”
Sigh. You win this round, cat.
He does the same thing when I watch TV.