I finally realized that painting, making art, won’t solve everything. At least, not for me anyway. It won’t bring predictable weather, it won’t solve the covid-19 pandemic, find a cure or a vaccine, open the restaurants and other activities, it won’t be a complete happiness cure. It doesn’t even give me peace of mind when I do too much.
Now that everything is closed down, I have been painting too much My studio is in my house and beckons. I enjoy the work; it feels good. But I end up drained and exhausted when I overdo it. My usual scheduled-in time-away from my studio isn’t available, not happening. No Pilates, no agility, no walks in the park, no visiting friends. This morning I took time to plant seeds in my garden, to take Romeo for two long walks, chat with neighbors at the proper distance along the road. It felt good, lightened my mind, gave me a better perspective on the state of the art of living.
The paintings are still there waiting for me.