There's something special about snapping the plastic with my fingernail and unwrapping it from around my new, future artwork. At this moment, the painting is perfect.
Preparing for 2 shows this summer as well as decorating my favorite Japanese restaurant has left my little studio full of canvas waiting to be painted. I can only work on so many pieces at a time, so most of the canvas sits in stacks around the room, waiting for me, taunting me.
I move the stacks closer to my work space as I get nearer to painting them. It's like I'm slowly readying myself mentally for the tasks at hand. I feel the pressure. It encourages me.
I'm happy to have so much work to do and so many opportunities ahead of me. The truth is, I want and expect it to increase. I've always enjoyed a challenge, I think it makes my art better. I'm constantly improving my situation so that I might work harder, better, faster, stronger.
Sometimes, like today, I work so hard that I forget myself. I stood up quickly and smacked the back of my head on the 10 inch thick wooden beam holding up the staircase. It was a hard hit. It knocked me back to my knees. One ice pack and three Advil later, I'm doing much better. My neck will be sore. My head is bruised, as is my ego for confidently assuring my husband that I would always be cautious of the scary wooden beam. But, the sun is shining, the ducks are quacking, and from where I sit gazing out the magnificently tall glass windows of my condo, it looks gorgeous outside.
Must keep working.
[Speaking of Daft Punk, this is a lot of fun.]