Pardon the tardiness of this post, but as many of you know I have a lot going on. Moving house is not for the faint of heart. Moving into a wee place from 1840 is for hearty stock.
I am grateful for this moment of relative calm, sitting in "my chair" with my headphones on, listening to the perfect electronic drone. It feels so good to return to one anchor of my normal life. There are lists to tend to, more organising and relentless figuring out of the new space. Where do we put all the stuff, how does this box of wires work? When can I have a functioning shower? You know the usual... she's a good ship... but... she needs some care and vision... don't forget the vision part, Chapman (thankfully, that's where my creativity gets to come in).
So my mind has been far from painting, but I have this whole shack as my canvas once I get the basics organised and I will return to work and it will be interesting to see what happens when I do. Patience is essential now. And multiple trips across the road to the sea...
Until next week, keep fighting.
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I wonder if living in one distinct neighborhood and painting in your studio in another neighborhood will affect what you paint. Looking forward to looking back in another year.
ReplyDeleteThat will be interesting. I wonder if I will go back to Leith and feel displaced or feel glad that I get to come back and be part of it. It's already been strange passing our old street on the bus. I am going to return to the studio and work on Monday.
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