My solo show at Sebastopol Center for the Arts opened on August 7, and since then I've worked in my studio exactly zero (0) days.
I'm very good at focusing on work, on a work goal. I can paint for hours and days and even when I'm doing other things, like picking up kids or cooking or going for a run, I'm mulling the project over in my head. In fact those undirected times can be particularly fertile, for problem solving, or ideas that bubble up unexpectedly.
But order falls by the wayside in a pretty spectacular way. This is the area I was not working in:
My desk. It does not perform its designated function very well when in this state:
And my palette. Actually, it pretty much always looks like this:
I completed ten new pieces for the show. It seemed like an accomplishment, as my paintings tend to require a lot of thrashing around over a frustratingly extended period of time. But the aftermath is a letdown. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't bring myself to clean up the mess I've made, or to paint in the chaos that's already there. Eventually it wil happen. Until then....blah.