In case you've been wondering how the greeting card project is coming along, it isn't.
I had all the ingredients but never baked the cake, metamorphically speaking.
The event happened this past weekend. In all honesty, until Monday of last week, I thought the thing was to happen THIS COMING weekend, and I had an "oh shit" moment. But, really, all I had to do was print out 24 cards, put them in the envelope rack (which is still in a box in my entry hall), and deliver them. I could've done that in a couple of hours, barring a power failure, or something. I put off printing the cards for so long that, by the final day, I'd talked myself out of doing it, altogether. I had not promised anybody anything, so there was nobody to disappoint but myself. And I was okay with that at the time.
Can you believe it?
Part of the truth is that I let myself get distracted by the brother/daddy painting. Part of the truth is that I was afraid my cards would not sell and I would be embarrassed.
I am mad at myself about it now. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
This is painting class day. On my kitchen table is a piece of stretched watercolor paper, taped to a sewing room cutting mat. On the paper is a very light pencil sketch of the brother/daddy painting (minus the faces). It's going to class with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment