Painting Number Two. The Curtain.

Difficult

     It is November 5th now. I am about two months into my school year of painting. Almost finished withe the first 4' x 6' canvas. The first month was so glorious! I was so thrilled to be in the space, in the studio, in the old building, on it's old stage with it's heavy, loose-seamed stage curtain, with big windows on either side of the stage, wide open and an Indian summer breeze moving through the room. Lunching in the cemetery in the grass, laying on a sweater and taking some time to read "The Artist's Spirit" by Robert Henri and close my eyes. Or taking a break to walk to the chocolate shop for a marshmallow. And every part of the painting I approached, I was able to puzzle out. Sometimes taking a couple of tries with different techniques, but figuring it out and feeling really satisfied by what was happening. So pleased, that I fell in love with the painting and missed it when I was away, excited to be with it again. Excited to see what I would do next and how it would evolve.
   Then I painted the door. Then I painted it again. And again. I layered, I wiped, I glazed, I mixed paint, I mixed new paint, I covered, I coated. It's not right. It's still not right. The door is the final piece and all that is left to finish this painting. Repeatedly failing to come up with a result I wanted  took the wind out of my sails.
   At the same time, I started a 21 day commitment to exercise and eat right. Dropping Desmond off at school and then returning home to do a daily 30 minute workout, then shower and eat and pack a lunch and snack. Inevitably, I would check my email, Facebook and Pinterest and get stuck in my own personal Internet trifecta that cycles like a whirlpool and spins me round and round until I am dizzy and too much time has gone by and would you look at that, it's time for lunch. I may as well eat at home instead of packing it up and eating it at the studio. By the time I got there, I only had three hours instead of the 6 I'd have if I had gone straight away.
   Today is the first day in a couple of weeks, that I got myself out of the house with Desmond at 9 am, to walk him to school and continue on to the studio for a full day of painting. Dreading it, really. Not sure how it would go. Feeling like I am not able to paint what I want to, that it's not working. But knowing the only way through to the other side of this painting is to wade through the muck of it. That indecision and ineptitude. Maybe I'll learn something. Maybe I'll figure it out. Maybe I won't. But not doing it is not an option. So off I go.
   Now the windows stay closed and the heat is on but it is still chilly. I am on my 4th audio book. I am antsy and restless. I have a routine. Setting up when I get there, cleaning up when I go. Some of the mystery is gone, the newness has worn off. But the process is always a mystery to me. Lately, it's a struggle. Enjoying the process when things are going well is easy. But when things are not going well, it is hard to remember why I am there. All I can focus on is getting the painting right. Having it be just right. Not exact, not perfect, not mind-blowing but just right. And right now, it is not just right. It's like going for a run with a pebble in my shoe. And I can't get it out.
   So, for now, the first painting is put aside. A new canvas is in place and I will go back now and start to sketch out number two. And maybe tomorrow will go smoother. I am nervous I won't be able to get this one right either. I'll my time, take deep breaths, and refocus my attention on enjoying what I'm doing. Just being in the moment and trusting myself.
   I guess today was a success. I did what I wanted to do. It's all okay.
   I hope I can get back into the swing of joy. I feel like I got thrown off my horse. That's alright. Me and my horse go way back. She'll come around.
  

Painting Number One. The Door.