You know, I think this shouldn't surprise anybody. There were paintings of circus clowns in my pediatrician's waiting room, and although some adult probably thought they were harmless and jolly, they just looked too happy that I was getting a painful booster shot, or about to have a big-ass popsicle stick stuck down my throat. (Your artwork, it mocks me, I would think. Or something like that.) But I was a little coulrophobic in general, anyway. At four, I ran shreiking from a clown on stilts at a carnival (Clown! TALL CLOWN! Why would they make clowns big?). And there was a little video that Sesame Street would run from time to time of a clown taking off his make-up, which for some reason would make me hide behind a chair until I could be assured it was over. (Did I think he was taking his face off? I dunno--it just creeped me out.)
But I find this kind of cool:
Maybe I'm getting over it.
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