I'm getting closer to visualizing change. Sometimes I'm referring to physical change, other times I am referring to a mental attitude or a way of life. Every now and then if I get depressed I like to imagine anything is possible. I'm bizarrely attached to my hardwood floors, but in reality I would like blond wood floors. But then I wonder if I would have to clean my blond hardwood floors more often. My dark hardwood floors hide dirt. They also attract dirt. Tough call.

I also like to imagine I could sell every single thing I own, except the dog, and except my supplies. I could then easily move anywhere in the world and live in a white rectangular studio with natural light and blond wood floors and the dog, and a mop. I breathe easier knowing it's possible. I'd like to make up a number, like 12— and tell myself I can't have more than 12 pieces of furniture. It seems doable. Even reasonable, maybe. The room I'm in now has 9 pieces of furniture: 3 bookcases, 3 desks, 2 chairs and a floor lamp. There's another bookcase in the closet. I am in the office. I need to work on this. I'm getting closer to visualizing change.

I'm still painting things that have names.

Mary Addison Hackett

Intervention, 2011

oil on linen on wood panel

10 x 8 inches