It's been one of those long weeks, where seconds, hours and days ceases to be a relevant to means to measure the passage through time. There's a moment each time I start a new piece of art, that I consider abandoning it. Sometimes a piece may have many of these moments, but it always happens at least once. I have to decide if the image is worth working on further or not. Determine if something is a lost cause. This week had several moments where I considered it a lost cause, yet it continued on, and I think some good will come of it in the end. This is one of the parts of the piece I'm currently working on:
I found a scrap of paper in my desk the other day on which I had written, "Carry me away on a paper plane." It was receipt tape, so I must have written in back in high school when I worked retail. I tend to write little lines like that down fairly often, but now I have a note book so I can find these thoughts again. Art always seems so much like a puzzle to me. I have to find all the pieces and make them fit.