So, two days ago, I hit one of those walls. You know the kind I'm talking about. The kind that you inexplicably don't see coming at all. I say "inexplicably" because when you come up against it, the frigging thing towers over you.
In short, I lost my swing. Big time. Hook, slice, shank.....water hazard, sand trap, heavy rough....you name it -- for the last two days, I've been in it. Could not paint my way out to save a paper bag.....see, I'm even mixing metaphors.......
Just in time for my favorite season too. I actually thought about throwing a panel in frustration into the canyon. I'm ashamed to say, it wasn't environmental awareness that stayed my hand. It was economics -- these damn things are expensive.
Anyhoo....I only know one way to conquer walls like this when I come to them. I get depressed, I get angry, and then I get to work. The really lovely thing about this blog thing is that you, dear reader, get to go through this with me (should you choose to do so). Unlike when I was in college, suffering through blockages in music, secure in the delusion that I was doing so in complete anonymity -- I wasn't, of course; there are no secrets in college music buildings because everyone can hear everything you're doing -- I'll document it here in all its gory detail.
Call it cathartic......
"Last Days of Summer: Coffee Pot View" 8x10; oil on panel
"Last Days of Summer: In Oak Creek" 12x16; oil on panel
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