Procrastination

PMS or Panic Mode Syndrome is the worst form of stress for an artist to confront. Sometimes it enables a new unplanned concept to appear in the painting, but I'd much rather have an enlightened thought arrive effortlessly and out of love for the piece. (Dianne Middleton)

I had so much to do today that didn't get achieved. And now its Sunday night and my energy level is dropping along with my enthusiasm to complete any more tasks today.

My fall yesterday has manifested itself into some nice bruises and soreness all down one side, so that makes hauling around boxes of decorations or trying to put up Christmas lights an impossibility at the moment. I'll tackle it again tomorrow but think it will be on a diminished scale.

I have been working on two portraits at once today, flitting from one to the other and fitting in this little drawing in my Moleskine of one of the images from the Weekend Drawing Event at WetCanvas. I can't resist portraits of people and this one was no different. I look at a sketch like this as a coffee break between the other portraits. It lets my mind wander and allows me to play with colour and just see something new. I can then go back with fresh eyes to my other drawings again. I'm on track for timelines with the others which are needed before Christmas so they aren't causing stress - yet.

The Arts and Letters Competition deadline is February 16, 2007 and this year I want to have a couple of pieces ready to go. Open to the residents of the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador, the aim of the awards is to stimulate creative activity, both amateur and professional, by the provision of cash prizes, adjudication, and the publication or exhibition of meritorious entries. I have several images that may be worth entering but there is enough time to complete a few more. I just need to make sure that procrastination doesn't enter into the picture or February will come and go and I will will not have brought the paintings to the gallery.

There are always ideas for drawings floating around in my head and they come to me in the strangest places. In the shower this morning, I watched the water come out of the showerhead and thought about colour in the water and on the head itself and how the light reflected on it. I spent a full five minutes analyzing water drops - how they lie on flat surfaces or how the weight of the water changes their shapes on curved areas. Nothing is sacred. The most mundane becomes art if you let it. The bathroom becomes a myriad of shapes and colours and light plays instead of a utilitarian space.

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