Enough with the whining about how much I suffer for my art.
It's not like I wake up in the morning and have to worry about whether the brain surgery I'm going to perform will be successful. I don't need to put on a bullet-proof vest to go to work.
I wake up and take care of my animals, go for a walk in the countryside I love, eat a bowl of oatmeal, make a cup of tea and walk into a bright studio with the day ahead of me to do nothing but play.
Reality check, Bec!
Instead of cringing every time I make a mark on a painting, I have the choice to rejoice.
It's ART, for crying out loud. "The conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects." Mr. Webster
That's my job.
Attitude in everything.
Above is a detail of a painting I started today (happily). Acrylic, Bristol board, Yupo paper, ink.
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