42 days.
42 days of trying to figure things out.
42 days of considering a future as an artist. Only 10 of those 42 days actually painting in my studio, but 42 of those days were spent considering how to turn my art into a business.
2 hours of teaching art and a maybe a day's worth of hours spent considering how to turn that into a business. Teaching is definitely the easiest bunny to follow as I understand how that could bring in money and I am obviously not obsessed with the idea.
42 days of writing.
A full 42 days of writing.
42 days of pure joy in the morning. 6 blog posts inspired by my Penzu rants, 4 Facebook posts linked to blog posts, and way more than 42 likes, loves and comments on my writing. I think I see a trend here. This is an eager and contented bunny.
Today I woke not know what I am going to do. I am waiting for a few commissions to come through with my paint portraits. Daisy's lesson this week was successful and she left a happy and confident art student. Murray the portrait, already imagined in a frame on the wall, is waiting to begin. The living room is complete and looks lovely. My Penzu entry for Day 41 was a heart wrenching and soul searching therapy session that helped me come to terms with how I have been feeling. I shared it with Katie and I want to share my self-discovery with the world. Not sure who else cares that much about me, but as an artist, I want approval. Approval for my writing more than the content. The line I wrote about Hannah, for example, I thought was pure genius. I want more acclaim for that creative line of prose than for any portrait I painted.
She was an old girl with almost 17 years of a joyous life. Translated into human years, she made it to 119. Who wants to live that long if you can't see much of anything, you have to take medications every day just to feel somewhat okay, and you are scared and shake all day long? We put Hannah down the day she had some kind of vertigo attack and we could not have her face yet another illness and a stay at a vet hospital. It was enough. We gave her almost 17 years of love and she gave us back 119 years of pure, unconditional love.
Norman asked me what my project is for today. I don't have one. That feels nice inside, but embarrassing to admit. I do have a possible plan for dinner in Westfield with Sam and maybe I can invite Joyce or Lisa to come too. I do want to start a painting. I have computer related things to do. I could take a walk or clean up my closet. None of this, though, is showing him that I will bring in money comes September. That brings on the guilt again. How do I get over that?
What is my project for today? I want to focus on me. I think plowing through my closet and ditching the clothes and bags I do not need or fit into will continue the summer cleaning theme of this week. Cleansing my home and my soul. Making room for something good to grow. I may not get to paint today or even promote a future business in art, but I did write on my 42nd day. Nonsense words, words nobody needs to read, but words to describe my feelings 42 days into retirement.
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