I think I might need to up my antioxidants. I'm feeling rusty.
Huh. As I take in the opening sentence above it occurs to me that maybe the challenge facing me is conveyed in the first two words: I think.
Thinking isn't working.
But, here I am. I went to my studio again today, fiddled around with cutting postcard-sized pieces from my evolving in-process painting, added a bit of collage.
Action.
OK.
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| rusty postcard! |
My internal weather is frightful;
Can't get calm, though, try as I mightful,
But since I've got paint set to go,
Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow!
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| paint straight from the tube, moved around with my finger |
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| detail; more colors, finger painting and mixing |
I recently shook my feathers from head to tip of tail just enough to loosen up the inner gumption to subscribe to mailings from copywriter Meg Peery <megpeery.com>.
She promptly rattled my cage (am I mixing metaphors? maintaining one? doesn't matter) with a discussion of motion vs. action.
If I stop now to examine metaphors—feathers, cage—or explain the difference between motion and action, I'll be in motion but not taking the action that aligns with my inner inklings.
I need to take the action of posting to my blog for the first time in weeks to document the first time I've picked up a paintbrush in my studio in months.
Studio as repository for all manner of items related to renovations going on elsewhere in my home:
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| grabbed a page of quality paper from an old calendar, grabbed a paintbrush (marketed as a makeup brush), grabbed a jar of black gesso, painted gesso onto paper: ACTION |
