Long enough

(.....yes I know there are typos in my posts. I tried the spellchecker in this. Friend of mine used to yell at me for my misspellings. Well, all I can say is, I can still draw/paint photo realistically- not good enough?...........:)

Lovely day. I got distracted by the weather, went for a walk to deliver some art (donations), had a cup of coffee with a photographer and poet afterward- kept saying "I have to get to back to work"- but I never did. Painting that is. Shared gripes about the district with another painter who's also working in seclusion, the politics here. I went for a bike ride to pick up 40 photos of fall river shots. Color. I wanted to see some color after nine green paintings. And the foliage here is still just budding, not enough variation yet for me to go out and sketch. Still receiving resistance towards working on a series. I can't imagine why. I have no answer why, and it doesn't really matter, because I'm still going to work on it. "What are you doing????" people keep asking. HUH?- I don't post daily activities on Myspace or Facebook anymore- do they really need to know? "Working on the series" I answer. It's all working on the series. Even when I sleep I'm working on the series.

I came home, opened my windows, inspected my current painting while reading and finishing quite possibly one of the most important books I have read in my lifetime. I know it will change the course of my life, regrettably, it came out in '96- I wish I had read it 12 years ago. But things happen in life when they do sometimes.- I have a new found sense of personal freedom that I have not felt in quite some time. I will no longer compromise myself, my values, my systems, etc. for an other's demands on my person. Nearly to the end of this book last night, today's walk through the spring air, after a cold and blustery yesterday, was one of quiet enjoyment with a new sense of possession of self.

"What are you doing?" Why must I answer this question? Why must I "report"- to whom do I OWE my privacy? BECAUSE I am an artist and some of me, as in paintings, is hung out there- does this reserve the right for others to know every detail of my life? I am not kidding about the intrusion- I had a neighbor who knocked on my door repeatedly just to ask "what are you doing?", especially wanting to know what music I was listening to at the moment.

On my walk, during my talk with the poet, the subject of gifts came up, as I was carrying work that is intended to be "gifted". I have made gifts of art many times. I don't think much of it anymore, but at one point in my life it caused a problem. Along with the gifting came the obligation that I also owed this person the details of my life- it was as if since they owned the work- they also owned me- and I lost peace in my life for quite a long time. That situation repeated itself with others who saw this and also received "gifts"- they felt they were privy to my personal life as well.

I was reminded of this today, a phrase repeated I haven't heard for quite some time. I thought- Ah, there it is again. Like the tiger............

Nothing I can do. Not my illusion, and I kept walking without any response. Long enough.

I should have read this book 12 years ago........

Oh, gee, so that's how this spellchecker works...........