Late Today, but I Made it
Oh boy, this is being posted late today. Dinner is done and I'm finally here. The day just flew by and there was no chance of posting earlier. I'm certainly enjoying myself, but time is limited before I conk out tired as a brick. By the time the house is set right again, I don't feel like doing anything except plopping in front of the television for an hour and I don't even want to knit. And yes, just an hour, because that's all I can handle before I fall asleep. I am not one of those people that has the TV on all day, unless there's some catastrophe or blizzard going on.
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.
This is one of the latest watercolor paintings I've just worked on in twenty minutes. There isn't much detail because I keep using too much water and have to get it dry before I can continue. The interesting thing is the more times I get to paint, the more antsy I am to do it again. It's exciting. I wake up wondering if I will get to it and think about painting every minute until I do. If I don't paint I get cranky like a whiny brat. Bad inner artist child! Behave before I count to three!
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.
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| Quiet Leaf (c)2011 Dora Sislian Themelis 8x12 Watercolor |
Dora-
ReplyDeleteLike minds...I love the crosswords with my morning coffee! You did a nice job with this, and I agree- I am crazy when I can't find any time to paint.
Sheryl
I enjoyed this post very much! Funny how the different phases of life affect our art. Isn't it wonderful that some of us have that outlet for expression through our artwork? Great painting today. I wish I could do such pretty things in 20 minutes!
ReplyDeleteSheryl, coffee in the morning with the crosswords is like an obsession! Can't move on until it's done.
ReplyDeleteKatherine, you're so right how things change, but we're still who we are. Only our circumstances change, and medium of expression. Thanks for dropping in!
ReplyDelete