I got up from my easel to wash my hands before getting something to eat (oil paint is toxic, not like kill you toxic, but its at least make you really sick toxic, the fumes alone will make you crazy if you breathe it enough over a long enough period) so I go into the bathroom, washed the big paint streak off my arm, then found this...
...Nice. At least I didn't walk out in public! I'm reminded of being in art school and for us in the painting suite, it was pretty much assumed that we all had paint on us all the time. We just ignored it, there was no use in trying to keep ourselves clean. But we did at least try to warn each other before we left the studios. One day, I was sitting outside the building when a fellow painter come out with paint of her face, I told her, and she thanked me said that she thought we had gotten so used to seeing paint on our faces that we just stopped noticing!
I think that's true...and I have no idea how I got this on my chin!
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