lovely...

it's 6:30 in the morning... still dark outside, still raining. but the sky is trying to fall away from prussian and reach for periwinkle. i've been up all night painting. lucky girl.

i love it when this happens and i love it that i'm able to cater to the work this way... to forget about clocks and schedules and just follow the concept, follow the aesthetic, follow my love for this. it's definitely worth being tired later. besides, i've got tons of coffee at the ready anyhow.

the shock of all the wonderful things that have happened since the start of this year (and even just since quitting my job) has been hugely inspiring. i'm excited about everything and don't mind the struggle. i've cleared out the house, made a ton of extra space and, tonight/today, have spread out my canvasses and paper and just decided to be brave. i realized i had somehow reverted back to that horrible place of feeling precious about the work... afraid of fucking up. not good and i know better than that. no risk = no exploration, no breakthrough, no surprise, no poetry. but tonight, gladly and finally, i got myself out of that viciousness.

sometimes the night is just too short. as soon as the sun peeks out from behind our tall forest, i'll feel tired. i'll pull the curtains closed and go back to ignoring the clock a while longer, revel in this wonderful, freeing silence and push around my oil. i don't know when my sweetheart will be waking up but i think i'll go ahead and put some coffee on for myself and some music too. beck's 'seachange' maybe. i feel nostalgic for the world, full of sweet fantasies and memories and still quite eager for my paint.