Tales of Woe

Tale No. 1 - I was walking out of the studio Thursday night thinking to myself how lucky I was. I had just spent a few hours there painting, listening to the radio and thoroughly enjoying myself. Wow! I feel very grateful that I'm able to be here, do this and have a great life, I thought. And then...No, nothing bad happened. I still feel that way and I'm still lucky.

It's just that the next day, I went to the studio and couldn't make keeper art. I put together two paper pieces, and then just when it was time to leave for the day, I looked at them and told myself that they really sucked and that I had wasted the day. They were too complicated (as usual) and I would have to begin all over again in another direction. It feels very frustrating and I wish I didn't have days like this. I have that Philip Gustom comment on my wall saying that frustration is everything in art, but it's not easy to live by as a maxim.

So here are the two suckee pieces (see how much I'm willing to share with you?):

Suckee No. 1

And Suckee No. 2.

I don't know what happens to me that I turn into a pattern-making machine. I should have been a decorative painter - some may say that I still am. Maybe I should switch to little ducks and whales or something.

Tale No. 2 - Today I went on a job interview for a part-time job and...I got the job. Yes, some would be celebrating and I admit that I am pleased about it because I do need the money and since my friend Deborah recommended me, I was pretty much able to just walk in there and get it. The hours are not fixed, the pay is decent, the amount of time per week is flexible, the people are nice, and I know I can do the job. But although I will be earning money, I will not be in the studio wasting time and kicking my ass for not being able to make keeper art.

Is there a moral here? Something about never being satisfied and exuding the Boomer never-gratified mentality? Wow, this feels very confessional. I hope you don't send me a bill for your time.