An Essay by Jim Cogswell Paint is a living language for me, with grammars and nuances that challenge me beyond any other intellectual or creative pursuit that I have ever experienced. For some people paint is simply a material, another medium, and a very traditional medium at that. For others it is the Bible — the Holy Writ.
Contact Author "Watching paint dry" "I 'ate this bloody job" Jack told me the other day, he was talking in his usual strong Yorkshire accent, and it was surprising I could even understand him, when he gets 'wound up' he can't help himself, and the broad 'Yorkie' as he calls it, comes streaming out at full steam, "it's like watching sodding paint dry.
It was boring, Now? I did say "a few weeks ago" didn't I? Truth is, it was only last night. One of the strangest nights at work, no, make that THE strangest night I've ever had!
Now where was I, I was doing the usual rounds, checking all the doors, there are no windows where I work, so I didn't have to worry about them, but doors all secure, air conditioning working properly, got to make sure of that, make sure the paint actually stays 'dry'.
Can't have moisture ruining the paint, not this paint anyway! Now, where was I, ah yes, I was doing the usual rounds, checking all the doors, there are no windows where I work, so I didn't have to worry about them, but doors all secure, air conditioning working properly, got to make sure of that, make sure the paint actually stays 'dry'.
The Gallery I forgot to tell you, I'm a security guard, my job's working the night shift at a Gallery, you might have heard of the place, but anyway, I'm getting distracted, where was I, Oh that's right, I was doing my usual rounds. The place was pretty dark, so I was using my flashlight, I was in the 'Lowry' room, the one dedicated to the artist LS Lowry, one of my favorites.
Naturally, I was checking everything, I noticed something, well, I thought I did! Something or someone was moving about. I scanned the room, no no one there.
Probably good really, that there wasn't anyone else there that is, I'd have been a sure candidate for the little men in white overcoats, and the padded rooms.
But the paint wasn't dry, it couldn't be! It was coming alive, people were in the streets, they were walking and talking, going about their lives and generally looking like a hard day's work had just passed.
A siren went off, it took me a minute to recognize it, it was a factory 'hooter' as we used to call them, telling the workers it was shift change time!
I can tell you, they were real stone, those cobbles were, and they hurt like hell when I fell back. I landed on my arse and sent shooting pains right up the spine, my head flew back and clunked something hard, damn near knocked myself out, then again, there should have been a wall, a plastered painted interior wall.
There was a wall, but it wasn't plastered or painted, it was rough brick and cement! I didn't have time to think, as the next thing I saw a wheelbarrow hurtling towards me, a voice shouting out, "Hey up mistah!
Out the way" I scrambled to my feet just as the wheelbarrow stopped, two lettuce came flying off, I managed to catch one, but the other rolled down the street followed by a young boy, about twelve by the look of him, "me I scrambled to my feet just as the wheelbarrow stopped, two lettuce came flying off, I managed to catch one, but the other rolled down the street followed by a young boy, about twelve by the look of him.
Picking the lettuce up he turned round and stopped dead in his tracks, a look of dread slowly spreading across his cheeky face. I looked around, I couldn't see any Police, there weren't any in the painting, and there weren't any in the street!
I started brushing myself off, that's when I noticed it. My 'Security guard's uniform had turned itself into a Police uniform! I was reaching for my flashlight, it seemed there was daylight, and I didn't need it, but it wasn't a flashlight, it was a police issue truncheon!
That was when I noticed that it was light, not bright light, but natural, or at least as 'natural' as it can be through the smog.
It wasn't a gray cold kind of smog, but more the smog that comes from a thousand welcoming coal fires burning bright, waiting for the 'breadwinner' to come home, a welcoming smell of baking bread, cooking meat and a wonderful Lancashire 'ot pot' as we call it.
It wasn't my home, but I felt 'at home. No one listens to the night security guard, or even to a 'copper' nowadays, but back when the painting was done, that was a different story!
A tribute to the artist Sing along if you want to Past and present "Where'd you live? His face turned as white as a sheet, "How'd you know officer? What I didn't tell him was that's where my Great Granddad lived! And I did, I'd tried to work out where I knew his face, truth was it's in an old photo that Grandma had, I've still got it somewhere, not sure where, but I've still got it!
Jack said this job was as boring as "watching paint dry! As for me, I can't wait to watch that paint dry again, Last night as I watched it drying I was a 'Constable' but tonight, I've decided I'm going to go watch the paint dry with a painter called 'Constable' and I can't wait!
Is it dry yet?Jun 02, · Watching paint dry isn't boring when you do it with a microscope. More physics and astronomy at timberdesignmag.com Watching that movie was like watching paint dry.
The winter air was like a cold razor.
Similes can add a creative flourish to your paper, but they can be tricky to get right. And remember: similes are great for creative essays, but not really appropriate for academic papers.
Continue Reading. Everyone loves that period drama, but, to me, it's as exciting as watching paint dry. Rachel fell asleep during the big game because she thinks that watching sports is exciting as watching paint dry. See also: dry, exciting, paint, watch *exciting as .
The tools you need to write a quality essay or term paper; Saved Essays. You Have Not Saved Any Essays. There are several types of paints an artist can use to achieve their creative pieces of work.
Three specific kinds of paint include oil paint, watercolor, and tempera paint.. Oil paint, like all paint, consists of dry pigment, which is /5(2). Watching Paint Dry: Stories from the Trade [John Burbidge] on timberdesignmag.com *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers.
John Burbidge has aimed his brush, roller, and spray gun at everything from ritzy mansions to trashy trailers. He’s gone underground to paint sewage-treatment plants and risked death to paint factory ceilings. He has no doubt inhaled /5(37). What are some creative autobiography titles?
Update Cancel. ad by Grammarly. Watching the paint dry. It really depends on the type of autobiography you are wrting but here are some ones that would peak my interest. How do I make creative essay titles?