But sometimes work gets put on hold…

Yeah. All last week I was sick. What I originally thought was just an annoying cold turned into a monster that stopped me in my tracks for a bit. (Not covid, thank goodness) But the doc loaded me up on drugs anyway.

Tea and toast. Toast and tea…

So armed with steroids, an inhaler, boxes of tissues and cough drops, I pretended I was a cat for a week. I found myself constantly roaming around looking for the best spot to snuggle in and sleep. Finding comfort where I could, (yes, those socks and feet above are mine) and know that I just needed to rest, rejuvenate and reflect. Why is that so hard?

Because of course, that meant no painting for a week. Ugh. Is there anyone more annoyed than an artist not painting?

When something like this lays me low, I feel a loss. It’s a weird feeling of grief almost. As though the time I am losing painting will not be gotten back. Of course, I know I have to stop sometimes, and life does get in the way of plans, but there is nothing more inherently sad than a creator not creating.

When I did walk back into my studio over the weekend after not having set foot in there for over a week, it was like seeing an old friend from high school on the street. I was happy, and yet it felt a little awkward. Where to start? What to think about first? What to clean up next?

So that first night I just walked around- tidying and mindlessly straightening. Moving things from one side of the studio to the other. Just like my list from last week I even put on a pretty dress and some music (well, maybe not so loud this time) and started throwing sticks back into drawers. (Heaven forbid I sort them). And just touching my tools and laying claim to my domain again felt good. Dirty, dusty hands- yay!

I had lunch with a friend a few weeks ago. (outside at a coffeeshop, but maybe that is where I caught the bug?) and she said something interesting to me.

“You know, you are the only one of my friends that loves what they do.”

Wow… that’s crazy. Not getting up every day and loving what you do? That would suck. I had a graphics job for a few years right out of college that I dreaded. I felt like each month I was walking slower and slower each time I walked into the building. (no! I don’t wanna) it was a yucky feeling. Then I was a waitress for many years. Some days… ooooh. Tough. I am a great tipper.

So I know I am lucky. Being an artist and just being in my studio? Ahh… It is my comfort. Like a cat on a couch. Or fuzzy socks on my feet. I can’t imagine doing anything else. If I knew for certain that I would always have to hustle for money? I will still stay an artist thank you very much. One thing I know for certain- money does not make you a good person… it cannot make you kind or happy.

This week I am back. Look out world.


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