Yesterday I moved to The Market Street Art Studios in Lockport, NY. I was gonna start something right away but then realized I forgot my paper...but I did have a sketch book. Then I had a wild urge to do a life drawing at a cafe so I drove to Elmwood Ave. A very trendy part of Buffalo, close to Buff. State I think. I stopped at the little cafe thats attached to Talking Leaves bookstore and drew. This took all of 10 minutes.
Im really hoping that moving to a studio will help me to not procrasti nate with the T.V. and internet.
I had a really good time. It was kind of a cheap way of being around people. But I have to start making friends. Its harder to make friends for me than it is to slip into isolation. When I drove back I decided to look at Rembrandt's work a bit and got inspired to try my hand at a Master's study of part of one of his self-portraits. I worked on it today for about three hours with colored pencil and a little adjustment on photoshop. I'm really pumped about it.
I'm honestly working on little more than fumes and I feel like I should probably say this before I forget. I don't know why- I'm not all for going public about inner baggage. But I do want to say that this morning I started juggling between clarity and a panic attack. Laying bed and thinking too much-trying to slow down my heart beating-and some inner voice somewhere was saying that whatever lids we pull up on ourselves-its because we are becoming ready to be perceptive. I think that maybe one of the hardest fights-if not the hardest fight is the one we have with ourselves and our ego. And when we start to listen to how we ahve been dishonest, or not fully present we must atone for it. Those moments are OK, but we always reap what we sow. When we are growing up we suffer all sorts of growing pains. When we are emotionally growing up, it usually is precursed by some sort of struggle. But if the struggle doesnt beat us then we grow from it. I think I've realized in part why I'm home. Why I'm lucky to be home.
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