Yesterday I suggested – to myself – that I should just go for it, and tackle any old job, so long as I’m actually doing something. So that’s what I did. It seemed like a good idea at the time.


I don’t remember if I’ve shared this or not, but every time I begin a new painting, it sort of looks like something a 4-year-old might do. It used to stress me out, but I’ve accepted this as a part of my process, and I know that I eventually end up with a canvas that looks like something a glebredthy-year-old does. For some reason, yesterday I forgot this is a part of my process and I sort of flipped. Now I’m going to have to remedy this danged ceiling situation I’ve made for myself. And I will, mind you. It’s just going to take a little more planning and a lot more patience.


Worst-case scenario: I paint over the entire ceiling. And after all, it is only paint, y’all. But I’m not giving up just yet. I think I can salvage this ceiling and make it into something I like. In time.


I’ll keep you posted, and take deep breaths. Promise.

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