Un-Finished...waiting
I have no excuses. I just can’t pull the desire out of my body. I am frustrated by my inability to move forward. Where did all my creativity run off to?
Months ago I put paint colors on the wall. Those twelve by twelve swatches of color of three very different hues have been a constant reminder of a project un-done. There is something in me that wishes for a change, a bright fresh look, a funky color palette that screams creative yet I can not seem to pull the favoritism of one over the other through this vision.
I even began another project in the middle of this unfinished one, the deteriorating bathroom. All I need to do is get out the brushes, the rollers, the painting trays and slap a color on the wall but I hesitate, I second-guess, I ponder, I get frustrated, I walk away.
So many projects in my life are unfinished. Of course it seems easy just to make it happen but when I look at the swatches none of them speak to me. I even have an unfinished painting sitting on the easel beckoning to me every time I enter this room. She is naked and exposed, no curves are shadowed, the depth not yet revealed. There is no plan for life at the end of my brushes yet she continues to call to me in a whisper as if beckoning me to give her meaning.
I choose a color; I slather the walls with green, covering over the project un-done. I ponder, I walk away. I can not seem to complete anything, my frustration rises. There has to be an answer to this inability to move.
The emotions took over.
I have set a date. This date will mark the end and the beginning. I must now respect, hold on to, the date of my choosing. This will be a new beginning to an end. I have given promise to myself to caress your curves, celebrate the exposure, to give this half image on my canvas life, give her depth one brushstroke at a time. Perhaps if I give her life she will give me mine.
For now, I wait.
Months ago I put paint colors on the wall. Those twelve by twelve swatches of color of three very different hues have been a constant reminder of a project un-done. There is something in me that wishes for a change, a bright fresh look, a funky color palette that screams creative yet I can not seem to pull the favoritism of one over the other through this vision.
I even began another project in the middle of this unfinished one, the deteriorating bathroom. All I need to do is get out the brushes, the rollers, the painting trays and slap a color on the wall but I hesitate, I second-guess, I ponder, I get frustrated, I walk away.
So many projects in my life are unfinished. Of course it seems easy just to make it happen but when I look at the swatches none of them speak to me. I even have an unfinished painting sitting on the easel beckoning to me every time I enter this room. She is naked and exposed, no curves are shadowed, the depth not yet revealed. There is no plan for life at the end of my brushes yet she continues to call to me in a whisper as if beckoning me to give her meaning.
I choose a color; I slather the walls with green, covering over the project un-done. I ponder, I walk away. I can not seem to complete anything, my frustration rises. There has to be an answer to this inability to move.
The emotions took over.
I have set a date. This date will mark the end and the beginning. I must now respect, hold on to, the date of my choosing. This will be a new beginning to an end. I have given promise to myself to caress your curves, celebrate the exposure, to give this half image on my canvas life, give her depth one brushstroke at a time. Perhaps if I give her life she will give me mine.
For now, I wait.