thismaskiwear: (Painting (I Think I'm Neil Gaiman))
With a breeze going on outside, Katchoo didn't really want to paint in the great outdoors; paints cost too damn much for her to screw them up by getting dust and who knew what all else into the paint.

So she'd lugged her gear downstairs and into the rec room -- noting absentmindedly that there was a piano down here, and maybe someday when it wasn't such a sore spot any more she'd have to play it. It was watercolors tonight, and a book of Impressionist art that she'd propped open beside the easel, intent on copying some of the paintings to get a feel for what the hell she was actually doing.

She could figure this out on her own. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

[OOC: For the other crazy toon person!

ETA: Aaaaaaaaand Francine and Katchoo are now a painting of themselves until we get back from Comic-Con! Please don't hang them in the boys' bathroom or something. ;)]

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Katina Choovanski

November 2011

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