The Special Artist

The Special Artist owned a sack of potatoes that they would play with. This could be considered an unusual action, to my mum, but not to the Artist, who thought that the idea was stunning. Remarkably, a sack of potatoes would be the thing that was chosen.

The Special Artist desperately craved for a set of lego to demolish. It would have been a bizarre approach to life, to me, my mum and my dad, but not to the Artist, who assumed it would be wonderous. Honestly, a set of lego would be the item that was chosen.

The Special Artist searched for a bag of poop that they would sometimes try to nail to the wall. It should have been an astonishing operation, to some, but not to the Artist, who expected it would be exciting. Strangely, a bag of poop was the thing that was selected.

The Special Artist found a computer that they would often rub on his belly. It should be a fairly odd operation, to me and my children, but not to the Artist, who felt that the idea was out of this world. You wouldnt have imagined, a computer being the thing selected.

The Special Artist looked for a pen that they would sometimes cuddle. This is certainly a fairly exciting undertaking, to me and my husband, but not to the Artist, who had decided that the idea was sublime. Honestly, a pen of all things.

The Special Artist carried a rubber chicken that they liked to watch for 10 minutes every morning. This could be considered a fairly peculiar thing to do, to my grandpa, but not to the Artist, who thinks it would be out of this world. Bizarrely, a rubber chicken is the item to select.