by my own website, that is. I think I’m just your typical artist in that I just want things to work without have to work AT it so I can concentrate on the art itself.
But in other news… I’ve recently moved yet again into a house that needs a whole lotta love. Each time I do this I attack the house full bore and the resulting space ends up being amazing and I reclaim my identity as a skilled artisan. I remember that my father taught me how to fix things and care for my tools to such a degree that I don’t really ever acknowledge him for, though I did when he was alive. So far I’ve refinished thoroughly destroyed wood floors, painted the walls of course, and built a new fence that at it’s total completion will appear as sheet music that can be played as a lullaby. I’ve installed my new cork board dart board and made it a convertable dye table. I’ve nearly unpacked. All of this would make me feel great if only my job hadn’t suddenly closed its doors.
I’ve lined up another series of teaching events, started a new custom piece, and started writing a book. Why do I feel as though I’ve done nothing?