Not too long ago,I said that I had come to the end of several big projects and might be able to breathe again. And paint. I lied. Didn't mean to, but I did.
The last two weeks have been some of my busiest ever. Sort of like moving. A few helpers and I had to pack up one hundred paintings to be shipped out. I knew packing would take time. I wasn't looking forward to it, but it had to be done and I was in charge. I accepted that. But, whew! I didn't realize I would have so many problems getting shipping labels from artists or run into so many complicated sitautions. One artist had moved, so her new address on her package didn't match the one given on her UPS account. FedEx didn't want handwritten labels. I had no labels from many of the artists, and they didn't seem to know how to get them. I could sputter on, but at this point, I am tired of hearing myself talk about it. The job took the better part of nine days. Absurd. I made calls to artists, to UPS, to FedEx in the middle of the night - and you get India then.
And I had to, and wanted to, put in some grandmothering time. And there was a reception at the Art Center. We had just held a clay class - still trying to get masks fired. And went to meetings about the exhibit we want to present in 2013.
Painting? No way. I guess my brain needs to recover. I am reading books, finally getting in the mood to declutter the house, and just catching my breath. We are cooking at home again, I walked yesterday, and finally got to have my toes done this afternoon.
But I feel the urge coming on. Soon.
That is supposed to say "toes done." iPad won't let me edit.
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