There is a third-to-half finished painting of a willow tree in the snow upstairs and a piece of Private Art [I will not discuss] hidden in the closet behind me. A friend gave me a gorgeous little “Transition Journal,” in which I’ve only written three pages thus far… and honestly, those were only completed because my routine car maintenance took a little longer than usual and I happened to have that journal in my purse. There are colorful tales and images and ideas buzzing around in my head, but I don’t have time to extract them, so they keep bumping into each other and – if left to collide with no exit in sight – are quite likely to eventually form a brown slurry with no hope of definition.
You see, life has gotten in the way of my art. The stuff that drives the paintings and blogs and ideas, is standing in the way of them. What kind of ride is this?
Meh… I suppose this is the time of my life during which I build the sort of background and character that makes the above more interesting and rich. I guess that packing and moving and unpacking and major life decisions and actions and a career change are required so that I can give good exposition later. I’m willing to buy that. I like to have new stories to tell.
And so, I must get back to all that. Here’s hoping to return on the other side with more stories!