I’ve been working on a little painting for Leeanne this past week. It’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything. Things seemed to be going much too easily for me and I wrote to her, "This is going too easily. Disaster is lurking around the next corner." And, it was. I convinced myself it was so.
I painted for a couple hours yesterday until I became entirely frustrated. I always wonder about people who say that painting is relaxing. Really? Is it really? Because I find it an utter piss-off! It seems though the only way to move my brain in the opposite direction from the way it moves at work. So I’ve got to do it or I’ll go mad (I’m not joking).
We’d hit the Outdoor Art Exhibition on Friday after work. That probably made it worse, being totally inspired, but lacking the skills to pull it off. I’m just learning, I have to remember. I find it annoying when I’m not instantly good at something. I packed everything up, bitter and disgusted with my pitiful efforts and went about some chores.
I slept on it, and when I looked at it this morning, I was surprised to find that it wasn’t as bad as I thought. The thing that was bothering me about the painting wasn’t even the thing that was wrong with it. I’m not sure if I can fix the problem, I think I can, but at least I know there’s no need to mothball it just yet.