I can't find it. I've made two attempts. The second attempted was more thorough. I was looking under the couch. I looked under the storage trunk and cabinets of my art supplies. I pulled up my drop cloth I use for painting. I am on my knees crawling and looking and I can't find it. I can't find my plastic pallet knife. I was very happy with that plastic pallet knife because it performed the way I wanted. The size of the knife end was practically perfect and the flexibility of the handle made it easy to use. It would hold the right amount of paint for me to swipe a path on the canvas to get the stucco look that I wanted. This was important for the effect I was trying to accomplish on the flags I'm painting for the next series, SIGNALS. But... its gone. I have other pallet knives and some that are better made. I guess I can use another and I have tried. It just doesn't feel right or the same. I have become emotionally attached to my plastic pallet knife. A couple of days ago I went to buy another. this plastic pallet knife came in a pack of six and cost 3 bucks. So, it cost about .25 cents to make? But I couldn't do it. It was on principle, loyalty, and being cheap that I didn't buy the pack. I know it is still in the area where I paint. "I will find you my plastic pallet knife!".
In all seriousness, loosing the knife did make me think about the things that bring me to my knees. Good things and not so good. Here's what I came up with that have a place in my life:
My surgeries; push ups; sit ups; watching a comedy like Jack Black in Nacho Libra (one of my favorites); playing with my dog Mistletoe; weeding in my garden; picking fresh tomatoes off my vines; fixing my sink; praying. I end up down on my knees more often then I think. a necessary humble position to live and get things done. I just need to be willing to get down when getting down is needed. I will find you my plastic pallet knife, I will find you.