Fighting Basics for Artists

There is a blessing and a curse to being in a family of creative types. We can’t turn off the creativity and it seeps into everything, from our doodles and humor to, in the case of my brother, sister and I, how we fought each other.
It wasn’t just a slap here or a tripping foot there; it was hours and days spent figuring out a way to accidentally kill each other. We were viscous. Knock down, drag out, attempt-to-throw-out-a-window viscous. My mom wouldn’t let me take karate in 6^th grade because she was sure I’d permanently damage my little brother; she knew I didn’t need the edge that karate would have given me. I was shocked and disappointed she didn’t believe in me/saw through my plan. She tried strict rules but the three of us would figure out ways to de-tangle what she saw as a water-tight web and still manage to inflict the maximum physical harm. Mom said we weren’t allowed to hit each other so instead we’d pick up our sweet, mild-mannered cat, Sam, shake her up and then launch her legs-first at whoever had incurred our wrath in hopes that she, in her airborne panic, would latch onto their faces. Usually, this worked splendidly. Sam would screech in mid-air and then land with her claws wrapped around my brother’s head. And I didn’t cause the injury, Sam did. I didn’t touch Elliott’s face, I don’t know how those scratches got there, Mom.

And you thought you and your siblings had cat fights....