A.I.R. exhibit at Badlands NP Visitors Center. "The White Place", center |
I picked up my truck last week after its rear fender surgery and it looks great. Body shops always do this psychological trick of shining the whole vehicle up real pretty. I imagine my truck was pretty nervous when they approached it with this strange substance called "wax", but I'm sure it soon relaxed and enjoyed the spa treatment. Now it's acting all frisky and a bit vain as it looks down it's hood at all the dusty cars on the road.
I also started my Physical Therapy to get me all shined up after my knee scope. So far so good. So mobility is slowly returning, not that I haven't enjoyed being housebound for a few weeks. And I've enjoyed reviving my biography reading habit, picking up two at the library today, Thomas Hart Benton and David Hockney.
Sometimes I try to imagine that this is really my life, and I won't have to go back to my day job. It would, of course, be fantastic, but I would have to really adhere to a schedule. Too much time is lost in aimlessness. Despite that I haven't lost that feeling that I'm not getting enough done, or that there isn't enough time to do everything. For example, this blog, and my residency journals. And, of course, painting.
The thing about painting is that it isn't something you can do and it's done. It demands time and more time as you dive deeper in. But that's ok, since for me it's the most important thing. I need to examine all the other things I think I NEED to do. Because even when I have All Day, they still don't all get done. The NY Times had a great column about "The Busy Trap" and I'm going to try to take it to heart. Not only can't I see the forest for the trees, I can't see the trees for the understory. So a little brush cleaning is in order. So I can load up those brushes in the studio.