Notes:

Those solid nine hours of sleep earlier in the week? An anomaly. Since then, I've been waking each night after about only 4 hours, whether I'm in bed at 9 or at 12. Sigh.

Work has been very busy.

Tuesday night I attended a wonderful conversation at Vermillion Gallery on artists residencies and retreats. 3 artists had returned from the MacDowell Colony in NH, and another had gone to Bellagio, Italy. It was not only informative, but a good overall discussion that was opened up to everyone. I'm still thinking about residencies, how to continue to create my own mini retreats, and when to balance that out with more social outlets. The conversation could have easily lasted another couple hours.

Last night was a phenomenal evening at the luscious Triple Door with Justin Bond. We laughed hard throughout the evening. Mx. Bond's intelligent and compassionate energy not only filled the room but enveloped us. And without being overt, the night offered a healing component.

Why does painting feel a lot like my photo? Mostly in the dark with a few glimmers of light.
And now...off to the studio in the sunshine and see if I can mark up my canvases with some of that sun.

Life is incredibly full right now and doesn't even leave much time to take photos, let alone blog.

I finally have a little time to put down a few thoughts about the Kiki Smith talk from a few weeks back. This photo was shot while waiting for her to speak.

I enjoy attending artist lectures. Whether it's someone who I truly admire or someone I know little about, there is always something new to learn.

The first was Jim Dine - one of my gods. It was at the SAM and although it was in a large space, there was a sense of intimacy. Even the Patti Smith evening with a packed house at Benaroya felt intimate. While waiting for Kiki Smith, I began noticing the people walking in...a veritable who's who of the Seattle art community. The energy felt more like a media event than an artist talk. It made me uncomfortable. But I shrugged it off.

Immersing myself in her words, I was engrossed. She spoke fast, almost rambling...a stream of consciousness type of banter that would shift as slides changed. I once told another artist that I wanted to walk barefoot through his mind. With Kiki's talk, it felt I had a little bit of that opportunity.

I knew essentially nothing about Kiki Smith. The first time I saw her work and even heard her name was during a trip to NYC in Dec 2006. I had left the large Brice Marden exhibit and then wandered into hers. The work fascinated me. At times it was also intimidating, confusing, made me angry and also brought some enjoyment. A little of everything. I circled the exhibit a few times trying to get a handle on who she was and what she was trying to say.

So I was anticipating her talk with no preconceived notions and hoping to find a few treasures.

She spoke a bit of her upbringing...a family of artists, along with the idea that becoming an artist seemed to be a given. I couldn't help compare my own childhood and struggle to validate my passion. Although she's a woman artist who is aware of the privilege of men, there is clearly a great privilege growing up supported by artistic parents. She's 6 years older than I am and I fleetingly couldn't help compare and wonder what my life would have been like, what kind of work I'd be doing, and where I'd be if I had been so encouraged as a child. Fleeting, because if I dwell on it paralysis sets in.

And, there is another entire form of privilege when one gains celebrity status. So her periodic mentions of being a feminist artist would grate my skin.

Back to her talk. There were many gems scattered throughout. Here and there. I wanted to jot them down but was engrossed in listening...agreeing with some of her words and tossing others out. My notebook remained closed until the very end when I could barely jot down a couple phrases:

Partial quotes regarding her art practice:

"...when you open up and have space to listen..."
and a little later...
"....you have to follow your work..."

Mere fragments, but there is much richness and truth.

Regina Hackett managed to pull more quotes from her lecture...here.

Here is Jen Graves' piece on Kiki Smith

The video of Kiki Smith's talk

What struck me were the times she'd mention diving into the unknown...and that's where we blossom. The being okay with not fitting in. Yes I know this. And when I forget, there is always my shrink to remind me. But it's always nice hearing it from another artist.

I'm continually struggling with not sinking into the abyss of thinking my work isn't relevant. The only way I can keep painting is by reminding myself (loudly) that I am the creator. In that, I attempt to remain authentic to myself, which means continually fighting the urge to settle simply to fit in. I need to remember that my attempts to remain present...awake...regardless of what society or the art world says, is what keeps my work relevant.

I left immediately after the talk because my head was full. I wanted to think about what she said and how it applied to me. My head was filled with ideas about new directions and new ways of looking at my own art.

And in that, it was an enjoyable talk. I'm not swoony over everything she said, but overall was left with a strong sense of encouragement for my own work.

Now I'm off. It's an evening with good friends, enjoying great food, drinks and Justin Bond at the Triple Door.

Yeah, I have a thing for jars. This one is in my kitchen.


A few links~


A short 4 minute trailer of a documentary on LGBT elders -
GEN SILENT: The generation that fought hardest to come out is going back in…to survive

A different twist on body painting Living Paintings

And here's the new site for the group show I'm in. The opening is Thursday, April 1st and I'm very much looking forward to seeing all this work hung together.
Troy, the curator, is still uploading photos from the 49 artists -
Meet-Greet-Rinse-Repeat

Shockingly, slept soundly for 9 hours.
That hasn't happened in years.
It rocked.
And it meant I was an hour late for work.
Now I'm leaving the office and heading to the studio.
It's an evening of painting accompanied by salad and wine.
Bed early.

I want more sleep.

Sometimes the light in my studio is simply delicious.

I'm still painting the Bleeding Vessels series. Want to see some new paintings I'm currently working on?

I began this one over a month ago, worked on in for a few sessions and have just stared at it for the last 3 weeks. I am enjoying the simplicity of the composition and the color but I'm not sure about it. With time, it will tell me what it needs.



This painting began with an accident. I had picked up some new stretched canvases from Utrecht. They had revamped the entire store since the last time I was in there and it took me a while to find what I needed. I found the correct sizes and purchased them. In the studio I pulled out one of the new 18"x24" canvases to begin a painting and noticed it was stretched in linen, not canvas.

I've always wanted to try painting on linen because I've heard wonderful things about it. As soon as the first layers of paint were applied I saw I was dealing with a different beast. The surface was much too smooth for me. I missed the tooth of canvas. It changed how I can handle the paint.



The last week of February I was hankering to work in charcoal on paper but didn't have the paper. So I pulled out a canvas and wondered if I could get that same feel in paint. It's an interesting process. There is much drier brush work. And much layering and some glazing. It's very challenging to photograph. There are some beautiful subtleties that have disappeared in the jpeg.



And, I decided to continue in that vein. But I'm pushing the paint, and the color a little more. In looking at it now, it needs some glazing over the really dark areas and I think I'll pull back on the color.

Morning light...

Last night I was here, spending a wonderful few hours with a friend in the Fireside Room at the Sorrento Hotel, reading a book, sipping on wine, enjoying crab mac and cheese and relaxing. It was a perfect way to assist with soothing wrangled nerves.

Thanks to The Slog, here is a great link: Bad Paintings of Barack Obama. Thing is, I'd love to walk into a room and see them all hanging together. Just click on each and note that when you encounter a repeat, it doesn't mean that you've seen all of them. There are many, many paintings. At one point this morning I returned to my desk to find copies of two of the quirky paintings on my desk. One is a Picasso-like piece and the other (my serious fave) is Obama with tacos, people in underwear and floating tighty-whiteys. I'm so curious about the mindset of the creator of that piece because I don't understand the meaning of all the underwear in the painting.

They are charming. And fun.

I'm glad it's Thursday.

Busy, busy, busy...

Sometimes, even when I can't really see an end in sight, all I can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep going. It is how I wake each morning and manage to get things done.

That's how it's felt for a long, long time. It takes a lot of energy to not get discouraged and sometimes...despair just sets in.

Today is one of those days. Everything is up on the surface and I'm really feeling my wounds.

But...I'm still gonna continue moving forward. I have to.

Now that many of my deadlines had been met, I took Friday as a day to cozy up to myself. And although there were many plans over the weekend, I ended up cancelling more than half of them because extra downtime was needed. I took a break from the studio and the bits of socializing I did engage in was celebratory, including some brilliant time with a man who is very close to my heart. We hadn't seen each other in a long while and reconnecting felt like old times.

It's Monday and it means back to work, back to painting, and hopefully finish writing up my thoughts on the Kiki Smith lecture I attended last Thursday evening.

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I just sent this link to my coworkers and am listening to them chuckle while they cruise the site. Here are Weight Watchers recipe cards from 1974

Knocking stuff off my list...

This morning I finally compiled all my tax stuff, created a spreadsheet and placed the entire pile on my tax guy's desk. Tomorrow I meet with the book guy about illustrations. And then a full weekend is coming up and I hope to find the time to paint yet not sure it will happen. I'm looking forward to a good friend's reading on Saturday, and there are a couple play parties but I honestly don't know if I'll have the energy to attend. It depends on how the days evolve.

Life should return to a more regular schedule on Monday. Balance is tough. Lately it seems to require saying no more often than yes.

------
EDIT:
For Film Noir lovers...

...a beautifully created and very sexy tribute to Film Noir, set to Massive Attack's "Angel".



Here is the list of films featured in the mix.

Yesterday was a crazy but very good day. My week was slammed with all sorts of stuff. As yesterday evolved, everything kept changing and things that were scheduled for today and tomorrow ended up happening yesterday. So it made for a very full day and yet, it clears the remainder of the week so it's more manageable. I can actually focus on my day job for the next two days, which is needed.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

A fun little tidbit thanks to the slog: A Random Exhibition Title Generator. My first hit came up with -

Queering Charm: A Remix of Aesthetic Forms and Their Opposites.

Heh...that could almost really be used for my current painting series. And the second one is appropriate as well -

Collective Imagination: Figuring Interactivity

It's silly fun.

What an insanely busy week...!

There's a big fundraiser for the Tony DeBlase Scholarship fund this weekend and I have a meeting for that this afternoon. Shipping out stuff for NYC today. I'm looking forward to getting together with a man I rarely get to see this evening. Dropping off my painting for the group show tomorrow. Received a pleasant surprise in the form of an invitation for some play in a couple weeks at a space I've never before attended. Last night was an amazing dinner with Roger and Dwayne. Dwayne was up from SF and the conversation and energy we all shared was balm for a bruised heart. I have some good people in my life.

And it's Art Walk this week, but it's the first one I will not be attending. My paintings will hang in the open studio while I'm listening to Kiki Smith talk about her art at UW.

A recent little painting...

Yesterday morning I saw 3 robins.

When I posted the blossoms from the little tree next to my house a while back...a little tree that always blooms way earlier than anything else, I didn't expect this a week later. But we did have an unseasonably warm January.

This is looking down from my street.

This was taken as I was quickly snapping off shots while riding the bus home from the studio today. You never know what you'll catch.

It was an interesting afternoon...of some studio time, getting sick, having a long, luxurious chat with my mom, a good dinner with good conversation with a good friend, picking up some dvd's from my favorite video store which is sadly closing...and now home.

Walking down to Broadway to meet Eric for dinner I intentionally walked down E. Thomas. It's the street that is lined with cherry blossom trees and they are all in bloom. There was a thick and beautiful fragrance in the air.

Studio time was hard today. I worked a bit but a sinus headache kept threatening to top me and finally won out. I wasn't clear enough to work on in progress paintings and didn't have the energy to pull out a new canvas. When I have full days to spend painting, having to quit early is frustrating.

But the rest of the day made up for it.

And coming home to an email from someone I rarely get to see, who so wants to get together, was a bonus.

It's going to be another painting weekend and I'm looking forward to it.

Grey Gallery sent out an email this morning, hoping to spark a discussion about what constitutes emerging art and its importance to a healthy arts community. This is part of "5x5", their new show for the spring which consists of 5 emerging Seattle artists chosen by 5 national curators. You can voice your thoughts and look at the 88 submissions for this show at GreyGalleryandLounge.blogspot.com. And yes, I am one of the 88 artists and you can see my paintings on the site.

I began a new painting yesterday, 24"x36". Again, I'm exploring a more minimal palette. I hankered for charcoal but decided to see if I can paint in a manner that's similar to my charcoal drawings. It's a pleasurable exploration.

Although my life is about much more, I know I've been writing about painting quite a bit.

There is much going on inside. I'm consciously working on breaking the hold of some old, internal tapes. Core stuff. It's not pretty but is crucial.

What is interesting is that the more I deal with old wounds, the more painful it is and the more anxious I become. And at the same time, my humor is returning and a part of me is lighter. I've noticed the change more at work and with a few friends. It's as if the old me, stuck in ancient messages about my untouchability, is battling the new me that is creating a belief in my worth.

Yes. Creating.
Therein lay the work.

And now...it's time for me get to the studio.

Although Seattle has many coffeeshops and places to hang, it's nearly impossible to find a quiet and comfortable place to chill and read. Either the music is too damned loud or all the new places are cavernous with a high ceiling which means sound bounces everywhere.

And so this brings the happy.

I've completed the piece for the group show.

Have I recently said how much I genuinely love my job and my coworkers? It feels like a renewed honeymoon period.

I've been doing much purging in recent weeks...clearing out personal spaces.

And I slept a solid, blessed 8 hours last night.

It's going to be a day. For some reason, although tired last night, I only slept about 3 hours this morning. Considering what I do for work, my head needs to be clear. And instead, the lack of sleep is making for foggy thinking. Data manipulation isn't best served unless one is fully awake. More coffee is needed. And some raisin English muffins.

On to something different.
I've been thinking a lot about color.

While mixing paint in the studio last night I noticed I spend at least as much time mixing and coming up with color as I do laying paint on canvas.

Some days, I approach the palette with confusion. The piles of squeezed pigment looks foreign to me and I'm stumped. I'll have no idea what colors to mix or how to mix. I feel totally inept. And then other days, like yesterday, I revel in the magic when a new color appears and it has the characteristics I seek.

A few times, after much mixing, I've accidentally come upon something luscious, and then have no idea how to replicate it. In those moments, when cleaning my palette, I'll leave a little patch there for reference, hoping I can figure it out.

There is something satisfying about mixing color: discovering harmony and contrast, not only in hue but with temperature. How to create light and depth. It feels sculptural.

On Saturday I began a black and white painting, pushing myself to see how much color I can bring into it while keeping the integrity of a very minimal color palette. I tend to see much color in many of my b&w photographs and am trying to achieve the same on canvas.

I love color.

I think I found a new/old place near the studio for cheap eats. It's next to Trattoria Mitchelli's (RIP). You need to walk down a steep flight and end up in what looks like a basement. But actually it's part of the original Seattle. Look at this very old wall that was next to our table. It's beautiful.

...Sometimes there just isn't enough of it. I'm coming off of a long stretch (I originally typed "strength") of painting which was heaven. I essentially kept my space clear for the art. Only twice did I do anything social and it would be after I was through painting for the day. It was wonderful.

And now back to work. This morning I remembered that I'm doing a volunteer stint at Artist Trust today, assisting with some work that's needed after their big annual auction over the weekend. And then I need to immerse myself in everything that's on my desk. There is much to do in the office.

And...I need to finish the group show piece and have some items ready to ship out in the next day or two.

I want more time.

I saw this in a window while walking to the bus just stopped....captivated by the shadows and shapes.

It's spring...!
This little tree next to my house began blooming a couple weeks ago.

A coworker is in Vancouver today, enjoying some Olympic events.

Speaking of the Olympics, here's an article from Change.org on 5 most gay friendly things about the 2010 Olympics.

And then, there is some puzzlement over Johnny Weir's low scores.

Another article on Johnny Weir.

Another coworker sent me the following link last week. This...this is beautiful and very sexy.

From The Slog, The Art of Art Bombing.

And from Huffpo, 17 awesome Lego creations.

We've had gorgeous weather this week. And today...was the best. It was the first time this season I could fully open our studio window. My studio mate was in this afternoon and we each quietly worked...focused. Warm air breezed in through the big window while jazz blended with the sound of viaduct traffic. We uncorked a bottle of cheap wine.

It's definitely been a productive week.

I'm tired tonight and am cozily curled up with a large cup of hot milk with a wee bit of Ovaltine in it. Off to bed in a few so I can be up early and do laundry before heading back to the studio.

I did take yesterday and today off as vacation from my day job for more quality studio time.

Yesterday was a very long studio day split evenly between painting and sitting with all the work. In the evening another artist came by for a studio visit.

During the day, with music filling the space...I was surrounded by bottles. The canvases were speaking. Groupings. Relationships. Slowly looking, feeling...I was hearing their stories.

Memories crashed together. Images from my past and all the emotion that came with each experience. Reminders of situations forgotten. New realizations. And old thoughts.

I don't fit well in groups. Not because I don't enjoy people, because I do, but I don't tolerate "group think" very well. It's why I left the church at 16, which in my family was quite the feat. Each new foray into something else more cutting edge led me to believe I'd find people who could bond and at the same time remain individual thinkers and doers. And yet...the pull of fitting in, of belonging, is strong and people seem to shut off their minds and follow the leader. Cult mentality is not restricted to organized religions.

Rigid structure is the last thing I want to see in my art, my sex, my fetishes and my life. I enjoy the fluidity of life and need to experience the surprises that come with it. I get turned on by unique thought processes and imagination.

In the midst of all this I fantasized what it would be like to give up the studio and pack away the brushes. How would my life change? Who would I be? Yesterday afternoon I thought myself crazy...absolutely insane...to be a painter. And in a few hours I will return to my studio. How can I not do it?


This little painting was completed last month but didn't shoot it until this week.


from the Bleeding Vessels series, 8"x10", oil on canvas

I'm astounded with all that I've accomplished in the studio the last four days. Even when painting is a challenge and the doubts arise, having unblocked and undistracted studio time makes things clearer.

Currently, I'm in the office and already am trying to figure out if I can take Wednesday and Thursday as vacation days so I can spend time painting. Today I'm immersing myself at the office and taking a break from the studio tonight hoping to make that a reality.

My hand is stained in red paint and it makes me smile whenever I look down at my fingers.

My calendar is again filling up with other fun things as well. It really is a delicate balancing act to fill various needs, have play time, do sexy stuff, poke thru galleries and create emotional and physical space to paint. As I've discovered these last 4 days, I need much empty space around my painting time. Rushing from one thing to another doesn't make for the best art practice. For me, it really is about taking much alone time.

Now back to work.

It's been a productive painting weekend. A new large painting begun, a few paintings completed and I'm in a healthy place with the group show piece. I look forward to going in again today.

Here are two more from the Bleeding Vessels series that I finally finished on Saturday. Even though they are small, it's taken a while. One I began over a year ago. Paintings are funny things. They come together when they are ready. I really can't push the process.

"Forgiveness", oil on canvas, 11"x14"

oil on canvas, 12"x16"

The January birthday decorations came down and we primped the little tree for February art walk. I handed scissors and paper to E and C and we all cut and cut some more. C surprised us and made two sweet little heart chains.

I received this bill in my tip jar during art walk last week. A few months ago we began putting out a tip jar for art walk to assist with paying for the wine. Although a large part of the people who come thru our building want to see art, there is a fair segment that comes for free wine.

It's helped. And overall, it makes folks a little more conscious of what they are doing.

For February art walk, someone left some Cambodian currency. I googled for it today and found the info here.

It's a beautiful looking bill and is the equivalent of 25 cents. Not worth taking it to the bank. I think this currency will need to turn into art of some sort.

I've had two productive days in the studio and look forward to two more days. I even cancelled brunch plans for tomorrow morning because I'm in a groove and don't want any social distractions before painting time.

breathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrust
breathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrust
breathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrust
breathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrust
breathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrustbreathetrust

Working through a rough painting patch...


I've been feeling increasing pressure with the 3 pieces I'm working. Each leaves me with great doubt about my "true" ability as a painter. Whatever that means. It's stupid and that adjective needs to be dismissed.

This morning I was going through images of paintings, looking…selecting pieces for a submission. In culling images to find my strongest work, I was filled with a joy and surprise. Surprise that they were created by me. Each done, at times with much struggle, but without commitments or deadlines…born of freedom coming from a love for the act of painting and of big emotion.

And yet, in the 3 pieces that are specifically for others, with parameters set, I feel my terror. There is a disconnect and my idea of perfection has become a roadblock. I aced my way through art school. I remember the deadlines, the assignments, the pressure, and somehow I was able to push through and excel. I'm trying to see these 3 pieces in the same way and trust that I can break down the paralysis that leaves me stiff and instead, move into a fluid hand.

The process is consuming me. And trying to balance a busy time at work and grab whatever energy is left over to paint is disheartening. Inside, I can taste and almost see my personal success at dismantling the fear and dancing with the work. Yet…the journey from here to there is intimidating.

This is part of my job.

Mornings have been beautiful with lots of thick fog. Yesterday my coworker looked out the window and said "the world disappeared". I smiled and imagined what that would be like. A few hours later I hear "it came back."

This morning my doctor called and left me a voice mail. Considering I hadn't seen her since December which is when she sent me for my first bone density scan and it had been over a month and I had yet to receive any results...my heart was in my throat as I connected to my messages.

I love my doctor.

Apparently she was so pleased with the results she had to let me know herself. Normally, good results always come by paper mail. She said my bone density scan and spine were above average for a 30 year old and my hips are average for a 30 year old. Considering I'm 50...this is exceptional news.

On grief...and A Single Man. This comes across a little choppy...thoughts jotted down.

----------

Last week, I was feeling increasingly fragile and anxious. It was a really good week, albeit a tough one. It didn't help that I was struggling with a sinus infection as I was dealing with openings and reveals in many parts of my life. By Thursday I contacted my therapist to see if he had an available hour. He did. I went.

My therapist felt my fragility and commented on it. And instead of the TLC that will happen during those very raw, feeling little times…with my consent, he pushed me. Hard. It was powerful. We work well together.

Again, the process of grieving.

I'm in it and at the same time, observe it…a scientist, clipboard in hand. To experience the full impact internally while watching the exterior world's reaction to great grief - my own, and others', is a surreal and yet more complete adventure.

Friday, I did something that was incredibly terrifying. I woke and saw what I once thought of as a boundary, really was a wall. In that moment I knew it needed to come down. Time dragged as procrastination took over, delaying the inevitable.

Taking a huge breath, I leapt.

Allowing myself to be vulnerable to a situation that has caused some of the greatest pain in my life was brutal.
And necessary.

Reeling from the experience, (feeling good but shaky) I sat and worked on calming myself. An hour later without a clue of what I had just done, a friend emailed me…

…a little portion of what he wrote:

"Grief is so incredibly fucked up. And you've had a lot of it in the past few years. If you need someone to remind you about yourself later, I will still be here. I love you and am grateful for you every day."

His email was balm.

Earlier in the week this same friend and I made plans to see A Single Man on Sunday. I knew a little of the film, and decided he would be the perfect person to go with. He is not a stranger to grief, having gone through years of it, first disconnected and then with much hard work, connecting to difficult emotions.

Regarding the film, I came away surprised. Originally I thought it would drag me down or put me in a black state. Instead, along with the pain, I felt a sense of validation. Somehow, Ford was able to visually portray grief. In watching George move through his day, it felt as if my own experience has been captured. Throughout the film, I saw me. And in that, my sense of isolation lessened.

There is incredible beauty in the film and it feels like an honest depiction. It is not sentimental or over the top yet portrays the matter of factedness in living with such despair.

The complexity of feeling, at times subtle, portrayed by the actors was luscious. The film carries an emotional sophistication that is rarely seen on the screen.

I just sent an email to another friend who is also dealing with grief. I wrote:

"My shrink told me over the summer that I've been suffering from a mild case of PTSD... It explains why the grief is still so large...why I can still wake in tears. Why the littlest present day experience can trigger a big painful memory.

I'm working thru it. It's agonizingly slow and not easy. Some of the hardest work I've done to date.

So it's a matter of being gentle with myself. Taking quiet times and hiding when I need to. Being careful who I expose myself to. And tending to myself like I have the flu while trying to get on with my days, painting, working and just being.

Tough stuff. Our society isn't gentle with grief. There's a lot of shame carried around it. People push away from people who they deem "too sad". And it's the worse way to handle grief. It doesn't allow the process to evolve naturally. There will be good moments and heart-wrenching moments. Things can change on a dime. It's all okay."

I do understand why grief makes people uncomfortable. But it doesn't mean that grieving isn't necessary. Grief is simply another rich experience of life. Grief means you risked...and opened your heart.

With grief comes many gifts. Some being...

~A greater sense of compassion.
~Seeing the bright times as more effervescent, knowing we can't truly see the light without the contrast of the dark.
~Feeling our own internal power and infinite strength when we find we've made it thru a black patch.

If we don't get stuck in it, it allows for a larger appreciation of our world and for each moment.

This was shot Thursday evening. We were sitting at Contour, enjoying food and libations before opening the studio for art walk.

The photo cheers me up and I need it now because I'm still really sick. The image is chicken soup for my eyes.

Somehow I managed to make it to a business dinner meeting last night, for the art work for a book. Even though my sinuses feel like they have little atom bombs going off inside them every hour, and my body feels like its been hit by a truck, and I apologized for not being as present as I'd like to be, it was a very successful meeting and half the drawings are now complete and purchased. It was the boost I needed to finish the project.

On painting~

vulnerable
strong
weak
invincible
little
lost
and solid

connected

Shhhh...don't tell anyone. I think I'm getting sick and there is no time to be sick this week. It's the reason why I won't even acknowledge it to myself until it gets to a certain point.

The last few days, I've managed to drag myself into the studio, somehow found the energy to work, and then would crash...almost dozing off on the bus.

This morning, my body feels like a cold is definitely coming on. Tomorrow we have an important all day staff meeting and then Thursday night is Art Walk. I still have two paintings to complete. One needs to be finished by Sunday (so it has time to dry before shipping) and the other has to be completed by the 15th.

I decided to chuck the portrait that was almost complete and began a new one last night. It needs to be freer, more expressive. Not that I push myself or anything.

If I can complete what I need to in the office this morning, I'll try to leave by noon, dash to the studio to set up for First Thursday and then go home to bed.

Tom Kha Gai sounds good right now. As does orange juice, a hot bath and some tea.

Or it's time to dig up my Zicam. That stuff has saved me many times over the last 6 months.

In spite of the physical blechies...life is good.

"I think last night, you were driving circles...around me."




I have been obsessed with this song for the last couple days.