I started a new painting today. This happens a lot, so I don’t know why I haven’t gotten use to it by now, but that moment of starting is at once exciting, hopeful, and daunting.
I have a hard time working out ( I blame the kids + schedule, but it’s totally just me) but I often think that starting a painting is like starting a race. You’ve signed up for it. All eyes are on you. But what if you freak out half way through and it’s super embarrassing? Or what if you get confused and take the path that goes to the woods when the person commissioning the painting wanted you to go to the beach? But the love of the race is enough to make you start. It get’s me every time. …and I do love, love, love this race.
Today’s painting is teal (as many of…
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