Zoned in

You know that zone? The painting one I mean, the one where you paint and paint and paint, barely stopping to breathe, certainly not stopping to pee because you are like an impatient child, just so excited about what the paint is doing, how a composition is developing and the actual moment of action, the placing of paint on the canvas and fascination with its texture and movement, especially the drips. Oh I could go on and on.

And I wish I could say life in the studio was always like this. But alas, it is not.

Monday started as ugly painting day. Color combinations turning to mud right before my eyes. Layouts falling apart, plans derailed - all when I really really really needed to crank and get some inventory together for these 2 back to back shows(isn't that how it always works, you fall apart when you are in a hurry). Somebody please tell me what I was thinking when I booked not one, but TWO shows during the same month as Artfest!?!?!?

Anyhoo, I digress. I stayed the course, not that I was at war with my paintings, but I mainly just kept going and going. I painted over. Moved to another. Painted over it. Moved back to the batch of 6x6's on the other table. Worked on them while the others dried. Moved across the room and prepped some 12x12's. Then into the other room, where I had a tarp down on the floor for some really wet stuff. Worked on that for awhile. In silence which is rare for me because I typically play music.

At about midnite, I finally stopped. I had a dyptych that I liked. I carried them upstairs to view in another setting. Yes, I still liked them. Hmmm. Two 24x24's. It was all I could do to not waken John when I finally fell into bed.