I’ve learned how to paint on canvas. I’ve learned a lot about painting working in my notebooks. A lot of work done during naptimes. Thank god I just go in my studio and start working. Today I feel awful, my whole body aches. I think I have swine flu. But I put those babies in their room and went straight to my studio. Earlier today, while Jack and Fiona were at school I went and bought some beautiful Gallery Canvas, 40×40. It is the largest I’ve worked on in a serious manner. It felt free and wonderful to have all that space. I might add some lines when they dry, but I really like what came out of me today. One of the paintings was about this dream I had lastnight. I was getting my teeth cleaned and so was Jack. We had our apointments at the same time. I could see him through the crack of the door with his blue blue in his mouth. I heard him cry. I asked the dentist, “can I call my mom, she can come help me”. We were in Oakland and my mom works in Oakland,  I think to myself. He hands me a phone, I start dialing: vl7d, no, that’s wrong. I try again and again, checking the number on my cell phone. It’s dark, I can’t see very well and my fingers won’t push the right buttons. My mom is dead, was I missing her and wanting her here with me? Yesterday I was looking at one of her paintings; the one she said, “Jenny, this is my best painting ever, its what I want to paint like”. Did that stir her up? 

I thought  this morning of how Jack and Fiona won’t be wearing diapers soon, only six months-max. They won’t be my little babies anymore. I’ve been writing messages to them in notebooks. I think they will appreciate it.”while you guys were sleeping Mommy was painting in her studio” I’ll write to them. Thank you for being such wonderful children and taking your naps! What will happen to naptime paintings when Jack and Fiona do stop taking naps? And their little baby bellies and chubbie cheeks disappear?    I’ll miss it. I’ll miss this stage of motherhood, even though its so fucken hard sometimes! It has been an amazing soul quenching journey.