Florence was an artist. She didn’t only paint; she wrote. Painting however was her passion. She rather fancied herself.
Everyone thought her paintings were horrible. In fact, she couldn’t paint for shit. All, however, commented positively. It’s better to be encouraging than honest. Isn’t it?
“You’re so creative, Florence. I wish I could paint.”
“It’s a God-given talent,” said Florence.
Father Luke, of the local parish, was equally full of praise. “GOOD is not the word,” he said. It was an ambiguity that went way over Florence’s head.
“Nature has endowed me with a priceless gift,” said Florence.
She was so enamoured with Father Luke’s comments, that she donated a portrait of Mother Teresa to the church. You should have seen it! Oh my God! What a wrinkled out-of-proportion horrible visage it portrayed. Not that Mother Teresa was a model, but it was the painting that was awful.
“It’s disgusting! It’s disgusting! It’s fucking disgusting!” said Father Luke to his secretary, although he didn’t use those precise words.
The painting hangs in the foyer of the church. Florence stands next to it every time she goes to church, so that people can photograph her and the painting with their phones. And indeed they do! It gives them something amusing to look at during the sermon.