Hope In The Most Unlikely Of Places

I wash my paint brushes in the bathroom sink of my studio. Once I finish a painting session, I scrape off my palette, pre-wash the brushes with mineral spirits and a rag, and then walk around the corner to the bathroom sink to complete the cleaning process. Predictably, the aforementioned sink is located just to the left of the toilet. I keep jars of brush soap stored on a shelf directly above the toilet. For some time, the thought occurred to me that between the toilet, sink and shelf, this may very well be a triangle of disaster. I feared that either the soap jar or a lid might fall from the shelf or sink and plunge into the toilet signifying an avoidable mess and confirming my psychic ability to forecast my own blunders.

Just the other day, as I was rinsing my brushes in the sink, the inevitable happened. I carelessly placed the soap jar lid on the edge of the shelf. Through some physical working of imbalance and gravity, the lid managed to leap off its perch without warning, diving straight for the toilet. It happened fast, but not so fast that my heart didn't sink while a voice inside my head taunted, "I told you so!" But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of splashing into a pool of toilet water and waiting in a floating pattern for retrieval, the lid hit the side of the toilet and shot out onto the bathroom floor, unscathed from the waters of doom!

I felt relief, though not the kind you might typically experience in a bathroom, and hope was restored again.