I’m not depressed, just melancholy. About all the time that has passed, all my life that I’ve already lived. How little time is left, how little time is always left at the end of every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year. The disappearance of time. In my studio today thinking about disappearance, things, people, life, fading away. Two hours, that’s about the amount of time I have to paint. I’m rushing around, I almost knock over a glass of water. “You’re getting crazy now, you need to calm down.” I say to myself. Green gold is a nice color, it was one of my mom’s favorites. I start painting, first a stain with watercolor, green gold. Some stained with grey. I think I like them, but I don’t know, I never can tell. Especially when I’m in these moods. My mind is cloudy, I keep hitting my toes and head on things. I hate when I have one of those ambiguous days in the studio. I get obsessed, I can’t think of anything else but the problems I’ve created, the search for the answers. But today is another day. A non-studio day. Time for a second cup of coffee. Today is my birthday, my 44th. Stumped. When my mom turned 44 she never would have thought she only had 15 years left to live. I’m being greedy. I want more time. I don’t want to die. Babies really show you how fast time moves. How quickly they grow. How can it be a year since my last birthday? Fiona and Jack were so small and sweet, only one month old. Last night Fiona stood in front of Jack and I. We were on the floor, I was putting on Jacks diaper. Fiona pulled the tab and opened one side of her diaper. Jack started cracking up and so did Fiona. I hope they don’t start taking off their diapers already and pooping and peeing everywhere. But that’s how fast they grow. We’ll have fun today, we have a great adventure planned and Fiona gets her new hearing aids today. She’s been without them for a week. That will be exciting. Happy Birthday to me.