Everyone has their own organizational system. My friend Dawn uses Flylady. My friend Toby is currently enraptured with KonMari. My system can be described as “put it exactly where I tell you and I won’t kill you.” I’ve been married 35 years; I like things neat and my husband (who doesn’t read this blog) doesn’t care.
There is no way we can sort a lifetime of stuff overnight. As much as I aggressively culled in Rochester, there is more to go. We both have to get back to work, and that means working through the mess. The hausfrau in me is appalled. The artist has to close her eyes and get on with it.
I promised Mary Byrom a painting a day for January. I don’t work on Sundays except during events. (The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath. Roughly, that translates to, “you’re an idiot if you don’t take this free day off.”) I’m already down three days, which means I have to paint every workday.
I didn’t paint en plein air yesterday for two reasons: it was awfully cold, and my husband was telecommuting from Rockport for the first time. He doesn’t have the social network I do in Maine. I felt bad leaving him. Not that I could fix a software disaster if it broke out, but I could stand around in a wifely manner wringing my hands.
Coincidentally, the weather is supposed to break on Wednesday, which is when I’m going out with my pal Loren.
I painted out the back window of my studio. The woodland tree screen is the subject that most intrigues and bedevils me. Why not choose that? Talk about an organizational disaster! All those trees. All that sorting. I’ve painted it innumerable times, and I never win. But at least I did it, and today is another day. I can paint something simple, like my shed or the Sistine Chapel.