Costly Drop / Cadmium's Revenge

There are certain blunders that happen in the studio an artist never thinks about until they ruin his or her world in an instant of carelessness. I have spilled mineral spirits on my hardwood floors... twice. Played a rousing game of "52 brush pick-up." And every now and then, I'll drop a tube of paint. When a tube leaps out of my hands, or falls from the shelf in a spontaneous moment of pigment daredevilry, I see the whole thing happen in slow motion, very much like The Matrix.

As I mentioned before, I have hardwood floors. When I drop a tube of paint, the first thing I attempt to determine when I pick it up is where it made contact with the floor, like a parent trying to find the wound on a child after a fall. If it's a fortunate drop, it will land on one of the few soft spots of the tube with minimal denting. A costlier drop occurs where the impact forces a tiny rupture in the tube. The problem is, I don't find out until a few days (up to a week) later when the linseed oil begins to seep through the newly formed pore, separating from and ultimately drying out the pigment. Not long ago, I dropped a tube of cadmium orange. This was a $18 mistake; cadmium colors are more generally more expensive than other types of paint. No sooner did I get the new tube then I dropped it, just a mere two weeks after receiving it. And now I am resisting the urge to overindulge my paintings with orange while trying to make the most of my dying tube of cadmium orange. Guess I'm off to the art store... again.