This morning as I scan it, this painting looks cheery and playful. Yet last night I felt frustrated and dismissive the whole time I worked on it. Maybe some of my inner critics have found ways of sneaking out of the room they’re supposed to stay in, so they can pursue their insidious mission of making sure I understand that Art is Worthless if it’s not Serious.
I’ll try to keep a better watch out today. I don’t want to do without my studio playtime. And I will stop if it is no longer joy full, I know this about myself.
So the nights of 2021 will not get any longer now that we’ve crossed the Solstice. Brighter blessings to all.