I was determined to spend the day in the studio today. No excuses. I happily thought of what I would do first of all, and envisaged great sweeping brush marks of dripping paint. Some sort of statement about presence. Something unthreatening and incapable of criticism from the nasty little judgemental voice. What could be easier?
Nothing really. Except I had failed to take into account an appointment with the orthodontist (middle daughter) in the morning, and a trip to the station (eldest daughter) at lunchtime. With a rare collection from school called for at the end of the school day (middle daughter again) I was able to potentially indulge in a whole 3 1/2 hours of work.
Except the orthodontist and train station commitments cut into dog-walking time, so the studio session was interrupted by an (admittedly pleasant) walk in bright sunshine through the autumnal remnants of the Holbeck botanic wonders, and along the Leeds canal. That was another good hour.
And on arrival at the studio, I could not stop myself from re-arranging and de-cluttering a filing cabinet of materials. Thanks Flylady. I am clearly now so addicted to harmony and order in my life that no space is safe from my bin bags.
I was however determined to do something. And so, after the great build up, I dribbled in some interesting looking marks and lines as the structural foundation for, er, something. And that was it for the day.
It can only improve.