It’s pretty straightforward, actually. You can wear anything you like, although socks are recommended, and this manoeuvre can be practised, even perfected, in the privacy of your own dining room. As with everything, timing is critical. There is no point in starting before midnight. More about timing later.
There are some secondary considerations. Skidoo takes only two players, one of whom has to be an Artist. Not to put too fine a point on it, an oil painter who works on stretched canvases. The Artist’s role is to work for five or six hours rendering some sort of intricate scene —let’s say the complex reflections of a treed and snowy riverbank. For this challenge to work best, i would recommend a complete value study as well as a colour foundation of three primaries. The Artist’s last task is to take that wet canvas and hide it flat on the floor somewhere on the main floor. Many possibilities but again, finding just the right nook makes the whole game more fun. The only real giveaway will be the oily smell, unavoidable because rules demand the use of walnut alkyd oil as a medium. Skidoo rules further specify that the Artist, whose job is now done, must immediately go upstairs to bed with Player #2 and fall asleep.
Player #2, hereafter referred to as the Midnight Skidooer or MidSkid now begins to play. Craftily pretending to sleep, he waits patiently until The Artist has departed for LaLa Land; really getting into it, The Artist might even snore a tiny bit, though only for the sake of the game. Like a ninja, MidSkid will then rise from the bed and tiptoe downstairs. Because it is critical to remain in that dazzling midzone between sleep and wake, the obligatory Dagwood sandwich must be assembled and consumed in no more than the light of the fridge.
Fortified and girded for action by his jaunty CPAP mask and undershorts, MidSkid is ready for the Main Event — the Great Slide. Undeterred by the velvety darkness, with dazzling skill and the nostrils of a cheesemaker, he locates the target and laser-locks onto it . It is magnificent! A full span of 36 slippery inches with enough width to traverse with both feet!! Like leaving footprints on the Moon, MidSkid now ensures that his contribution to local art will be memorable.
CODA:
The Artist will spend the whole next day deconstructing the event and thinking up better hiding places. She will also conclude that it would be unkind to trump that glorious victory by bragging about having absent-mindedly plunked herself down on her wet palette just the day before. Everybody wants to be The Midskid once in a while.
There are some secondary considerations. Skidoo takes only two players, one of whom has to be an Artist. Not to put too fine a point on it, an oil painter who works on stretched canvases. The Artist’s role is to work for five or six hours rendering some sort of intricate scene —let’s say the complex reflections of a treed and snowy riverbank. For this challenge to work best, i would recommend a complete value study as well as a colour foundation of three primaries. The Artist’s last task is to take that wet canvas and hide it flat on the floor somewhere on the main floor. Many possibilities but again, finding just the right nook makes the whole game more fun. The only real giveaway will be the oily smell, unavoidable because rules demand the use of walnut alkyd oil as a medium. Skidoo rules further specify that the Artist, whose job is now done, must immediately go upstairs to bed with Player #2 and fall asleep.
Player #2, hereafter referred to as the Midnight Skidooer or MidSkid now begins to play. Craftily pretending to sleep, he waits patiently until The Artist has departed for LaLa Land; really getting into it, The Artist might even snore a tiny bit, though only for the sake of the game. Like a ninja, MidSkid will then rise from the bed and tiptoe downstairs. Because it is critical to remain in that dazzling midzone between sleep and wake, the obligatory Dagwood sandwich must be assembled and consumed in no more than the light of the fridge.
Fortified and girded for action by his jaunty CPAP mask and undershorts, MidSkid is ready for the Main Event — the Great Slide. Undeterred by the velvety darkness, with dazzling skill and the nostrils of a cheesemaker, he locates the target and laser-locks onto it . It is magnificent! A full span of 36 slippery inches with enough width to traverse with both feet!! Like leaving footprints on the Moon, MidSkid now ensures that his contribution to local art will be memorable.
CODA:
The Artist will spend the whole next day deconstructing the event and thinking up better hiding places. She will also conclude that it would be unkind to trump that glorious victory by bragging about having absent-mindedly plunked herself down on her wet palette just the day before. Everybody wants to be The Midskid once in a while.
"Singing the Blues# 2 glaze oil on canvas 36 x 18 (in process)
RSS Feed
