One time, years ago, I was painting my basement/den area, rearranging furniture, being really busy. My mom called to ask me how I felt about some big thing that happened. I had no idea what she was talking about. She said "Don't you have the news on? Don't you know what's going on?" Well I didn't. Now and then I check in just to make sure some building didn't fall down, or some other disaster wasn't happening. Sometimes no news is good news.
Well, as I said, I'm busy. Some days more than others. I wish I could wake up really early and get the day started, but I can't. I already wake at 6 A.M., before the others here. I wrote in my Morning Pages that if I could be up an hour earlier I could run to the studio and paint, just to get it in. Then write the Pages, start the coffee, read my newspaper and do the crossword puzzle, dress, make the bed, run a laundry, decide on dinner, check the calendar, check the refrigerator, etc. It's just not going to happen.
Can't get to it early in the morning and too tired to do it at the end of the day. That means trying to find time during the day, in fits and starts, bits and pieces, minutes at a time. Lately, 20 minutes. Baby must be asleep, no one better call me on the phone, or visit me. I can't really work while talking, I can't think.
When I was in school and painting during our studio time, we would yap, but that was different. Everyone was an artist, each of us working on our own paintings. We talked about our progress, or lack thereof, the professor, the model or the still life, our supplies, our vision. We had large easels and maybe a small taboret to hold our stuff which acted like a barrier, creating a kind of wall. I'm in my space, and you're in your own space, but we can exchange ideas around the comfort of our huge canvases.
It's not like that now. I'm painting on the dining room table while my granddaughter sleeps in a nearby bedroom. Not enough sleeping time for me to paint in the basement studio. Not yet. And I'm using watercolors so there's no fumes for anyone to breathe.
|Quiet Leaf (c)2011 Dora Sislian Themelis|