After two weeks of purposely keeping myself out of my studio I began to understand what “retirement” feels like: awful, dreadful, depressing. I never wanted to define myself as “an artist”, to define myself by what I do rather than who I am. But, it seems, I don’t like not painting. It doesn’t feel good at all.
So, expecting very little, I ventured into working again this morning. I must say, it was a good idea to get back to it. Even though my arm still hurts (more after painting all morning), it’s worth it.
I worked on several pieces I had left dangling, unfinished and undecided. It all seemed quite clear to me this morning. Just keep going and eventually something good happens. Or it doesn’t. Either way, it’s better than not doing it. I hope I never have to retire!