Still running up that bloody hill

I am working but I feel like I am working blindfolded. Painting by instinct. It is difficult to explain but I know that I need to continue this way for a while before I get a bit of clarity. I have these snippets of "getting it right" and then the whole thing slips away. It's like trying to focus on something thats barely visible out the corner of the eye.

 So painting, right now, is hard work. Nothing is coming easily. Actually, I lie when I say that as I HAVE been able to paint a few things that are commissions and such, and they have been straight forward. It's the stuff I WANT to paint that is difficult to winkle out of myself. I have been deconstructing as much as I have been constructing, but that feels like the path that I am supposed to be on.

I'm not sure I should be writing about all this. I think the labour of wrenching the paintings out of myself is supposed to be hidden, referenced only when looking at the fully formed result. Here  I am , wailing and describing it all to you in detail. o dear. But I have never been one to have quiet thoughts. I have always declared whatever was going on I'm my noggin as it happens. Immediate reporting. That leaves little time for second guessing or ever being called taciturn.I like to think I am decisive .I also accept that I can be wrong. A handy skill, that. So, with a literary shrug, I write that this is what today's thoughts are . Tomorrow might be a totally different tangent.

Laundry day SOLD

On a good note, Laundry Day sold at the Franklin Art Festival this past weekend. !