The past few weeks have been crazy.
I have been left feeling more than a little punch-drunk, and can’t seem to get it together to paint in any meaningful way. It’s not just that there isn’t much time, it’s that a stolen moment here or there has felt stolen, and while it has been enjoyable, and I’m happy with the result, I am craving the complete freedom to go for it without distractions or guilt.
It seems, at the end of the day, that although I am a mother, a wife, a human being, a friend and relative to an expansive and wonderful family, I am at the heart of it an artist with a deep need to do what I do, and the pressure of a solo coming up.
I am becoming impossibly short-tempered, and guilty for being so. I am like a see-saw being balanced by two heavy and volatile children (life and the creative drive). My own little darlings are gorgeous as always, and deserve better. My husband deserves better. I’m not sure where my own soul fits with this mix sometimes, and I know I am so, so, so incredibly lucky to be blessed with all that I have.
In case you are getting concerned – I am not depressed. On the the contrary I am having a wonderful time, it’s just that I can’t seem to relax and be fully in the moment, and that seems such a terrible waste of a wonderful time of life for all of us.
She’s a cruel little mistress sometimes this drive….
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