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December 16, 2011

Day Seven: Studio Lockdown

Thursday. Perhaps I've misused the word, 'studio' and 'lockdown.' Perhaps paying bills, juggling office tasks, and worrying about the economy and my future while mixing paint is what I meant to imply when I said "studio lockdown."

Still ignoring my 5:45 AM alarm. Sometime around 6:15am I heard the war in Iraq was officially over. A horn sound effect made me think of Carl Stalling. The federal government is scheduled to shutdown tomorrow. Chance of rain is 100% today. Today is an emergency office day. I have to document work, prep images, write a statement, and update my bio for 2 shows in January. It's all due right now- as I am writing this, right now. Circumstances beyond my control prevented me from getting this together earlier. I could blame Mercury in Retrograde- "Mercury...turns retrograde at 20°06' Sagittarius in the sign of the Archer, sending communications, travel, appointments, mail and the www into a general snarlup." It's possible. Not really, but why not.


Fretted over what painting to include. Felt like the stakes were high due to communication errors noted above. I angst a lot. Sometimes I have to remind myself I have a decent track record with painting. Most of the time I fear there's some highly perceptible scale of 1-10 and I'll choose the painting that ranks a 5 or less every time. As a rule, few people like my favorite paintings as much as I do. I chose a painting that was still wet, and that I either loved or hated, and dashed out a simple heartfelt statement about it. I forgot how long it took to dash off a simple statement. A lot less than usual. I didn't have time to overwork it. I hit send, got up, and walked the dog. The phrase, "Never look back" occurred to me. This saved me from potentially obsessing. I decided to make this my new motto. It will save me time. It will also increase my odds of typos. I wondered if anyone would cut me slack on typos.

Went for a run. Received enthusiastic thumbs up on image I sent. Continued researching travel plans. On the other coast I received news that another painting had sold. Concluded that good things happen to people who secretly whine and feel sorry for themselves for a few moments when the going gets tough, and then get over and on with it. Silently thanked some distant friends who listen to me whine every so often. Promised myself I'd whine less.




Two paintings. First or second coat each. My general MO for starting a painting varies from painting to painting. It was the end of the night and I didn't want my palette to go to waste. 

5 comments :

Elaine Mari, Painter and Drawer said...

"Promised myself I'd whine less." Never look back. Whine and let it go. Next. Of course it's always the same thing, but not looking back makes it seem fresh. Is that less depressing, or more?

Mary Addison Hackett said...

The 'Not looking back' was actually in reference to not obsessing about what I write in a statement or which image I select for someone. I tend to spend a ridiculous amount of time in self-scrutiny, but yes, it makes for a good rule of thumb in general.

Elaine Mari, Painter and Drawer said...

Yes, I got that. Just extending the rule of thumb:)

Mery Lynn said...

My grandmother used to say that complaining is the cheapest form of entertainment. So I say: whine until it no longer amuses you, then move on.

Mary Addison Hackett said...

^ sometimes, I just need to. And then I get amused at how trigger-happy I am when it comes to whining before I know all the facts. Or after I know all the facts, but that's less amusing.