My studio is trashed. I can't see the floor. I have a hard time remembering to put the caps on my paints when I'm working this much...drying out. But not me. I feel like this completely absurd timeline of getting 15 paintings (add 8 more to that...I hve another two art walks lined up) in two months is making me more inspired. Just as I think "hey, this is it. I have no more ideas in me" I get another. And at the weirdest times, too. In the shower. While I'm driving (yeah, I'm that person scribbling on old envelopes and swerving down the road). While I'm doing the laundry. I scribble them on my hands so I don't forget. Random scraps of paper with words like "tulip tea cups" written on them.

After these are all done and my shows are over, I am taking a break. I'm going up to visit my mom and veg out with her. I could use some of her serenity to rub off on me. To feel myself breathe in and out. That'll be nice.