When work doesn’t end until midnight or begins at 2:00am, find I’m wiped for days. But paint out in the studio until 3 in the morning - and I’m reinvigorated for the rest of the week.
Careful how I draw the conclusion here.
While I once had a ‘associate’ tell me that my job was only to “make things pretty”, I do wonder if I can get as lost in the art of what we do to the same level as I do in the studio.
Though as I type that, I realize how unlikely that is, as the studio is mine and perhaps the invigoration is due to never having to answer to, or explain myself to anyone out there.
The lack of respect I get to practice for the world while the hours slip away and the floor cakes in pastel dust or my glass of red becomes a bottle… That primal base of it is likely where I draw my satisfaction I bet.
Need to put that on repeat. Indefinitely.