Bathroom Art Challenge 2: The Girl with Awkward Footing

Just like the first open invitation, the following description is open to any kind of artist. Painter? Inker? Sketcher? Crayons? CG Renders? Posed photos? Stick figures? Realism? Cubism? However you like to make visual art, at whatever level of skill you are, please take a swing at this. All I ask is you e-mail your work to bathroom DOT monologues AT gmail. DOT com so I can see it. If you give me permission, I'll post it along with all the other interpretations. I'll give your name, your title for your art, and link to whatever you please - be it a blog, Facebook, or charity. We can also keep your art between you and me, but I'd love to see how people envision the following. The deadline is Tuesday, March 22, with the posts going up the next day.

I turned from the pharmacy counter while they checked my order. What caught my eye kept me entertained until the pharmacist returned.

There was a bright plastic blue machine sitting beside the aisles. At the top it advertised that it was a “DR. SCHOLL’S CUSTOM FIT ORTHOTIC CENTER,” in the style of the old “get your weight” or “have your fortune told” machines from movie theatres. It had two footprints where you’d stand and a digital touch screen set at adult eye-level. Its occupant had to look up to see.

Its occupant couldn’t have been older than twelve. She had messy blonde hair and a winter jacket that utterly dwarfed her. A pink tutu jutted from beneath the tails of the jacket. She wore jeans under the tutu, leading to her pink socks. Her sneakers were behind her on the linoleum while she stood in the footprints. She had a finger on her lips, lips pinched and her eyes narrowed in deep thought at the screen, both unconscious and so highly practiced into its would-be-adulthood that I nearly busted up laughing.

A deep thinker, that one. In that moment I would have died for Norman Rockwell to draw this. Really, I’d have liked anyone to try.