The Bruised Possibility
a proposal, so much anticipation. like a life waiting in an egg. opportunity to be hatched at any moment. we spend days, in our eggs, years. impatiently waiting. tumbling. bruising. a possibility that always existed.
Sometimes I forget that I am an artist. Or supposed to be. I guess life can take over, and you forget that you know how to paint. Anyway, I am starting this blog, my third, in hopes that it will be more satisfactory. So far, so good. This weekend I spent doing some much needed cleaning. My sewing room to be exact. I will be posting before and after photos. Oh yes, you're thinking, this required photographic evidence of your procratination? Well, my dear reader, it did. This room was out of control. You'll agree. Oh forget it. I will post it now just to prove a point. Be right back.