I think I lost the muse before I even moved back up to the island, and I was just dragging it out by trying to paint there. It takes time and dedicated space but after everything that happened, I’ve never wanted to paint in quite the same way again. It’s come back in little waves, but not quite in the same all-consuming passion like I had before.
And then it came to me again, popping into my head at unexpected times, slipping in by bits and pieces, repeating when I finally got my first fat full paycheck from my newest job; that little voice reminding me of one of the main reasons that I work: so that I can create. I’m not in it to be a famous artist (good thing), and my work is often described as “kitschy” or “adorable” but it works for me. I got four mostly done, and I feel sooooo much better. Art therapy, color therapy, the glory of manipulating color and form into some random shit that my brain understands but can’t put into words.
Love to all
I Wanna Get Lost With You – Stereophonics