Sneakers considered the possible client's who could possibly be unhappy with his work. He couldn't remember from part 1 who his boss, Slimsy, had said.
These clients weren't just normal people. Not many denizens of the Cat Town could afford to commission such lavish, frivolous art projects created in their own names. This is when Sneakers looked for perspective. Sneakers thought of his ancestors through time:
A jester whose life depended on whether or not he could entertain the king. Often, people would ask where he got his material from. He said he created most based on stories from his real life, but the truth was that he had found an ancient joke book by the river.
Michaelangelo, a turtle (he married into the family) who painted cathedrals, and even when commissioned to create very specific works would never relinquish creative control.
Uncle Leo, a composer who at the age of 12 joined a prestigious academy and refused to do anything by the book. Rewriting the rules of music all together, he was probably secretly gay. Sadly, that was his legacy.
George Leo, an architect who was responsible for a lot of famous designs, was next in line. Although, his designs were often modified by the whims of monarchs.
These were some tough shadows to live in, surely. Sneakers had been more or less phoning it in lately. He had tried unsuccessfully in his earlier years to elevate his art to a household name, but after the great art purge of World War V he firmly believed no one recognized great art anymore. And as a great tracer and user of visual references , he lost a lot of good material.
He racked his mind for who could possibly be upset with his work.
Mr. Montgomery wanted a portrait of his fictional swan bride in his dream backyard. He had a lot of romantic ideals so Sneakers simply painted as hyperbolically as possible. Mr. Montgomery was probably happy with it.
Mr. Donovan was obsessed with spiritual symbolism so Sneakers drew a bunch of mumbo jumbo that looked meaningful. It was pretty much tracing symbols from ancient books of art, which he had purchased at Barnes & Noble in their bargain books section. (That was back when they used to have a Barnes & Noble in Old Town, you know, off of highway 22?)
Mr. Simile just wanted something that would make him happy. Sneakers figured this simply meant bright colors and soft curvy shapes. It looked a little like African art, he thought. Mr. Simile seemed happy with it, but it was always hard to tell how he felt about anything. Because he always looked happy.
Or maybe it was The Omniarch. The omnipotent omniscient omnipresent ruler of this world. He couldn't fit in the office, so Sneakers had to go visit him at his giant cathedral in the abandoned Forbidden City.
The Omniarch was bored of the world and, as best Sneakers could understand, just wanted a puzzle to work on in his spare time. Or at least that's how he took it.
So, he drew a big old picture of a boat. It was the first thing that popped into his head. It was way bigger than the things he normally made, although he wasn't sure whether he always adjusted the scale for the size of his clients. He had the guy who puts the puzzles together, Puzzletron, simply make a puzzle out of this Jackson Pollock and ship that puppy out. He hadn't thought about it since.
Yeah, it was probably that guy who was unhappy.
These clients weren't just normal people. Not many denizens of the Cat Town could afford to commission such lavish, frivolous art projects created in their own names. This is when Sneakers looked for perspective. Sneakers thought of his ancestors through time:
A jester whose life depended on whether or not he could entertain the king. Often, people would ask where he got his material from. He said he created most based on stories from his real life, but the truth was that he had found an ancient joke book by the river.
Michaelangelo, a turtle (he married into the family) who painted cathedrals, and even when commissioned to create very specific works would never relinquish creative control.
Uncle Leo, a composer who at the age of 12 joined a prestigious academy and refused to do anything by the book. Rewriting the rules of music all together, he was probably secretly gay. Sadly, that was his legacy.
George Leo, an architect who was responsible for a lot of famous designs, was next in line. Although, his designs were often modified by the whims of monarchs.
These were some tough shadows to live in, surely. Sneakers had been more or less phoning it in lately. He had tried unsuccessfully in his earlier years to elevate his art to a household name, but after the great art purge of World War V he firmly believed no one recognized great art anymore. And as a great tracer and user of visual references , he lost a lot of good material.
He racked his mind for who could possibly be upset with his work.
Mr. Montgomery wanted a portrait of his fictional swan bride in his dream backyard. He had a lot of romantic ideals so Sneakers simply painted as hyperbolically as possible. Mr. Montgomery was probably happy with it.
Mr. Donovan was obsessed with spiritual symbolism so Sneakers drew a bunch of mumbo jumbo that looked meaningful. It was pretty much tracing symbols from ancient books of art, which he had purchased at Barnes & Noble in their bargain books section. (That was back when they used to have a Barnes & Noble in Old Town, you know, off of highway 22?)
Mr. Simile just wanted something that would make him happy. Sneakers figured this simply meant bright colors and soft curvy shapes. It looked a little like African art, he thought. Mr. Simile seemed happy with it, but it was always hard to tell how he felt about anything. Because he always looked happy.
Or maybe it was The Omniarch. The omnipotent omniscient omnipresent ruler of this world. He couldn't fit in the office, so Sneakers had to go visit him at his giant cathedral in the abandoned Forbidden City.
The Omniarch was bored of the world and, as best Sneakers could understand, just wanted a puzzle to work on in his spare time. Or at least that's how he took it.
So, he drew a big old picture of a boat. It was the first thing that popped into his head. It was way bigger than the things he normally made, although he wasn't sure whether he always adjusted the scale for the size of his clients. He had the guy who puts the puzzles together, Puzzletron, simply make a puzzle out of this Jackson Pollock and ship that puppy out. He hadn't thought about it since.
Yeah, it was probably that guy who was unhappy.
