My five fingers covered in blue, black, and brown fabric paint and ink. My palms stained, even my wedding ring is stained from the brown ink. I sit in my studio in a sea of little fabric paintings, four larger works on paper, all abstract. All almost done or done. What inspired me to work freely again was starting more notebooks, they had a sale at the art store, half off, I bought five. As I came in my studio this afternoon, after lunch, I hated my large fabric painting so took my scissors, made a little cut and ripped it up. Made several little squares, revealing fascinating little paintings. My first thought, put them in a book. A collection of several thoughts, experiments, ideas, mistakes, and successes. I want to paint another face, a figure, I am obsessed again, but at the same time I want to paint abstract, experimental. It feels good to have the burden lifted off my chest, the burden of if it makes economic sense to work in here, to take the time for myself to be in my studio. I decided it was totally worth it by any means necessary. Think it, feel it. Do it. I will not question my need to make art and write. A teacher once told me to “Go in your studio no matter what, even if it’s just to sit and do nothing”
It’s 4:22PM, I have thirty minutes left until my nanny leaves. I’m done in here for now. My paintings are all wet anyhow. Can’t work on them anymore. I just got a text message that says my daughter took off her diaper, it had poop in it, there’s poop all over the floor. When the nanny asked Fiona why she did it Fiona replies, “Wendy, everyone poops!” That’s the babies new favorite book, “Everyone poops” But Fiona, haven’t you noticed when people poop it’s in the toilet? I better emphasize that part tonight. I guess I’ll go in early and see if I need to help clean poop.