Some days it just doesn't feel right
to paint. To make art in any way. Maybe it's the rain, which
I love and makes me sleepy, or maybe it's because it's Saturday
and I want to be lazy. But the studio calls just the same. The
habit must be fed. So on days like this I build supports, clean
brushes, take out my trash, get rid of crusty paint rags. I find
something to do in my space.
There's a certain comfort in milling about the
studio relieved of the responsibilty of having to work on an
image. Sometimes I just sit in front of a painting reading a
book. And I don't think the painting is bothered at all that
I don't
recognize its presence for the day. Sometimes I wonder if they
get tired of me too. Need a break from my incessant fussing like
an over-zealous hairdresser. Maybe the paintings feel just fine
how they are and don't see why I need to keep trying to change
them. And for today, I agree. I don't want them to change me
either. For today, I'm fine just how I am. |
