My wonderful, always well-intentioned mother sent me a link to an online Etch-a-Sketch without realizing my deep hatred towards the "toy" (loosely called in my book).
Oh sure, you can make tons of fabulous things like box after box after box, unless you're one of these dexterous people with a lot of free time on their hands:
and then you're making fabulous works of art -- somehow. (I think you're all wizards and warlocks and witches and demons!)
We had etch-a-sketches as a child, and I quickly realized how inapt I was at making anything more than a horizon, a box, and maybe a stick figure. And lots and lots of boxes and lines and more boxes, and when I got really frustrated, many squiggles.
Now, as an adult, this is the most I can do, and I really really tried:
I even saved it the the etchy gallery, and I've deemed this fabulous piece of artwork as "House on the abstract." As you can clearly see, there is a tree, a house with an open window (or a tank with a machine gun poking out an open window we all can't see) and what looks to be like some animal with a broken tail. Based on the demensions of the objects in my fabulous artwork, the animal with the broken tail is huge, and could possibly be a dinosaur recently back from a tussle with a raptor.
Give me a lite brite any day or one of those Wooly Willy magnetic face toys.
(Side note: When did they start making lite brites on "flat screens"? Oh, I am so old.)
Thanks, Mom. Thanks for making me realize what a horrible etch-a-sketch artist I am.
For those of you who like online art things that require no talent whatsoever, visit the Jackson Pollock web site to create your own paint splattered art or play with the Mr. Picasso Head.