Of what, you ask. Did you ever have such a clear memory, such as carefully sorting your paints, placing them in a plastic container, even having a bit of trouble with trouble with the clasp, and then, the memory dissipiates like smoke. That scenario has been plaguing me hourly for a couple of weeks.
It all started with the forecast of heavy snow, more on top of more snow than I've seen for awhile. I decided that I wouldn't be able to get to my studio for awhile, so I packed up my paints, collapsed my easel, and put a few boards under my arm and headed home
Now you've heard a bit of what happened next. Pain in my general abdominal area and then for a week it seemed to get better. It still was enough to visit the nurse practitioner at my doc's. All tests came back better than good. Then the weekend feeling very good. I later found out that this is probably when my appendix ruptured!! I worked from 9AM to 9PM hanging a show and working with an artist doing a demo that evening.
So now it is a few weeks later, medical issues under control and I am ready to get back to painting. Got my easel, yup. Got my boards, yup. Paints, paints, where are my paints???? Think, where did you have them last. I remember sorting them, packing them, even having trouble with the clasp. Think again. Relax, close your eyes. Think again. Search the studio, search your house, search your car. Repeat several times a day for two weeks. ARRGGGH. Nothing.
Time to let go of the hundreds of dollars of oils so carefully chosen over the past year.
Time to sit down with a catalogue that promises 75% off on some purchases. Free shipping with orders over $99. No problem there. Damn.
I took a little self congratulations for purchasing paints mainly at my local art store. I know I could have made a better deal on the Internet. But now, I succumb to the lure of saving my money. I have an art account that I see dwindling as I pay my rent and buy supplies and make arrangements to visit to my art birthplace.
So, it has been a struggle to let go, to see the memory go up in smoke day after day.