Have I fallen under the spell of the sirens of materialism, destined to be thrown against the cliffs of greed and waste, eventually to be washed up on the sands of despair, broken and suffering? No, not at all. Well, yes. But Schminckes are different. Not like Beemers or Tag Heuers or McMansions or whatnot. They're merely tools, aids in the creation of fine art, which brings light to a darkening world. Or so I tell myself. They are beautiful, so rich and creamy that a single languid stroke loads your brush with color so intense that you're tempted to change your subject from wet sidewalks to birds of paradise. You almost wish they were edible (but don't try it--learned that the hard way.)