I wake up wanting to paint. Everything is lined up. I have no “work” for the day. Materials are here and I even have my subject matter decided. I have the place to myself all day.
Yet I have my routines. I have to clean the catbox and vacuum the house (it’s small, only takes 10 minutes max). I have to have breakfast and clean up. And today there is some laundry and I need to swish some cleanser around the bathroom sink. And plan what to make for dinner. I have my last web-design class tonight, need to leave by 5:15. And I should probably get some exercise, go for my 1 hour walk.
And I am sitting here, listening to Stephanie Miller with one ear, concentrating(?) on my words with the other, and now I realize I need to take a picture of the piece I want to finish today. More distractions.
What is it about those things that get in our way? Sometimes I think I am afraid to paint, afraid I’ll fail? But when I am actually painting, I don’t feel afraid. I am actually quite fearless, easily marking over the entire canvas obliterating even the “good” parts, almost like I am channeling something beyond myself.
Well, I don’t think I will figure this out today. For now, I want to vacuum, so I can start to paint.