Rats.

So . . . maybe all my life, or at least since I read the Rats of NIMH, I have been sort of enamored and delighted by rats. Admittedly, this is perhaps because I have grown up in the place where rats are part of a clean, scientific, laboratory environment, where they demonstrate their bright intelligence and resemblance to other adorable mammals such as dogs, and not in the place where the rats harbor diseases, run across your face while you are sleeping, and destroy your only food. I keep returning to the subject of rats as something I'd to use in my artwork, though my rationale is still hazy.

For one thing, rats are smart. I love that. They are pioneers - the first to test out practically every biologically-related study that we try. This may or may not be true, but it at least seems that way . . . that it is easy to associate rats with science and with being on the cutting edge of scientific advancement, whether or not we want them to be. I just recently came to the realization that the NIHM in "Rats of NIMH" stands for the National Institute of Mental Health, and that explains the whole premise of those books. This news, by the way, blew my mind and was the source of great thrill and excitement for several days.

There is, of course, the ethical issue of rats being kept in cages, running around in mazes, and being killed through painful or horrifying scientific testing.

Not sure just yet what I might want to do with this.