Romeo, my four year old dog, is, in dog years, now considered a young adult. He is a very friendly dog. If I gave him a cell phone, he would be on it all the time. As it is, being a dog, he has to contend with my scheduling his social/play life. I’m pretty good at scheduling my own life. Mostly it centers around time in my studio and time with Romeo. I am obsessed with both. My comforts and joys. For the past year I have been working on an indigo triptych. I want it to put in my living room over my piano because that is the only place I have room for a large painting and because most people seem to be afraid of what they call “dark” colors. The indigo looks black and that is scary to many. To me it is very rich. Deep yes, and possibly disturbing. But the essence of this saga, working on this painting, is that even though, when I thought it was done (several times), it never really felt right. I did put it in my living room last week as I felt I needed to take it out of my studio to really see it. That worked. I did see the problem: it looked like every other painting I could do. I am at a point now where I want a new cliff to step off, to experience what I don’t know, not what I do. To be uncomfortable. That would make me comfortable.
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