Remember what I was saying about being "lucky"? Well I spoke too soon. Last week I gashed my left hand open on a clothing rack while cleaning the Show Pony, and tonight the right was paid a little justice. I was cleaning a cocktail glass when it shattered and a huge piece tore open my flesh. In the few seconds right before a giant flap of your flesh opens to reveal pain, you are actually shocked. Everything occurs in slow motion. You see the wound open, blood so red it seems fake hit the sink and then 5 whole seconds pass before you scream. You scream, not because it hurts yet but because you ought to feel pain. As I ran down the hall blood trailing in giant drops, down my legs- and onto my shoes...I thought perhaps stiches were in order. I've never had stitches but this was looking deep. Blood falling everywhere, down the sink, onto the bathroom floor. Then your heart starts beating someplace inside the wound and you fear you may never paint again. Anyway, a few cocktails later and a rag upon it has made me less careful. I just wanted to mention the luck has run out.
after the bleeding stopped I decided to take these:
GP thought I was retarded for regretting I didn't document the bloody floor.