This was sad. The heavy rain pelting on my roof this morning, the puddles, the panic about streets getting flooded, the little dog that wouldn’t go out, the memories of the hurricane too fresh in my mind. I felt alone and isolated. I did make it to John and Ryan’s 4th of July party, but by then the sadness had already sunk in, and not many people came anyway because of the weather.
I tried to paint but didn’t really like anything I produced. Doubts started flooding me. They like to float on top of the sadness. What if really I can’t paint at all? What if I don’t deserve my lovely wooden panels or the privilege of hiding art in my sister’s room?
I know tomorrow will be better. I know a lot of this is about the rain. I also know the doubts are normal. They’re an integral part of making art, especially pushing yourself past some limits. I know all this. Still, it was not a good day, and as it’s mercifully drawing to a close I am left wondering if maybe, when all is said and done, after my solo show, after the mentorship, perhaps it’s time to move somewhere else, to a different city, one that doesn’t flood.
