Today was the perfect sort of early-spring day to open all the windows and air everything out, so now the apartment is tidy and my sheets and towels smell fresh and clean.
Before my housekeeping binge, I sat out on the veranda and painted for a while. It was more art therapy than Art but I had an adventure while I was painting. The wind picked up and one of the cardboard canvases I'd laid on the wall to dry blew off and landed in the neighbor's garden. Oops!
I trotted downstairs to fetch my painting from our French neighbors who had a baby girl not long after we moved in. Now 18 months old, she watched me cautiously and smiled a little as I walked through their living room to the garden and retrieved my canvas.
Later on, my breeze-animated pillowcases swept a jellyjar-cum-candleholder off the veranda. It crashed into the other downstairs neighbor's yard. I don't think anyone lives in that apartment, so I'll let the "janitor room" know about the broken glass when they come in to work tomorrow.
I know people have died for art but yours seems more like a weapon!