Prep work. The other kind.

I put a final coat of gesso on 4 canvases this morning while having coffee. I spent an hour taking the hinges off and on a door so I could wrangle a large oak chair from the den where I never sit, to a spot by the fireplace in the kitchen. Once it got stuck and I chipped the paint on the molding. When I'm not in the studio or the office I live in my kitchen. It's cozy. It's office lite. I mopped the floor fastidiously. I let the dog out. The dog came in with muddy paws. I cleared off the surface of the kitchen table. I mopped the floor again. I took out the recycle and garbage. I had to break down some cardboard boxes to fit in the recycling bin. I went to the grocery store. I did 3 loads of laundry. I sifted through my pocketknife collection. I found 2 sterling cuff links that said "25 years Miracle Whip." I found a pocketknife that said, "To My Friend." My intent today was to spend a lazy Sunday reading my new book on public art. It's 8:40 pm. I'm tired. 


Yesterday, the whole point was to get my kitchen spotless so that today, I would not be distracted. Today's all about pleasure. Today is a big number as far as birthdays go. A friend whose name I will not reveal, is hopelessly excited about this year being a milestone- very empowering, fem energy I am woman hear me roar kind of stuff. That's really not me. I'm more in touch with my masculine side than I should be, and thus, have no need to roar. Part of yesterday's lazy afternoon agenda was spontaneously power sanding the legs and corners of the kitchen table in an effort to smooth out the massive gnawed chunks of wood the dog teethed on as a puppy. The day before I treated myself to a fancy pedicure, complete with sugar scrub. Balance. 


Birthday activities:
Run 3.1 miles
Work/Studio: large paintings
Work/Education: continue reading book on public art
Work/Career development: write cover letter
Work/Career development: send email announces for Arts in the Airport show.
Relax: dinner. Maybe smoke a cigar.