Wonderous Blunder Nuts

Work in Progress 3

When I sit myself down to some quiet, thoughtful painting, which I’m apt to do, such practices leaves a feller open to existential thoughts. These can be wonderful and delightful insights and, at other times, pretty dreadful. In these wrestling matches of what is and isn’t worthwhile, those are the times I invent new skills or interests to pursue to distract myself. You know, from further existential moments. And it’s in those times I gotta tell myself, “No. No more projects, there’s enough on your plate as is.”

I started scripts on books four and five. I’ve nibbled at the pictures and poems in book six! I can’t say I’ve been overly focused on a single project. I’m a man who chases his interests, and my interests change with the wind. Boy howdy, it is a struggle. And when you measure all the wasted time in the past or the present and see the collateral damage. Whooooo-weeeee. Like a tornado blew through.

So let’s try to orient myself among my messes and give y’all estimates when things will come to be. Brace yourself for tedium.

Been finishing the peoms on book three. They’re 80%-90% done. Of twenty-five, maybe four or five need more loving. Which I’ll take a crack at today.

The big paintings are there. Of 13, 6 compositions are good, 3 drawings are in the works.

Book four has the script done. I’m planning on it being 6″ x 9″ in size. That might change as the images and storyboard develop. Its aimed at younger kids ages 3-8. Real simple, clean, and charming. Been working on character designs. Storyboard soon.

Book five’s script is in development. Also 6″ x 9″ and aimed at a younger audience. Ages 3-8 again. This one has more to do with letters, numbers, and grouping. Been working on character designs. Storyboards soon enough.

Books four and five are intended to be light-hearted jaunts, whereas six is more serious in writing and images. Slow as it seems, they’re all coming along. Surely, a weird sight to see.

Soon enough, I’ll finish the projects, float them out into the world, and hope for the best. While avert my tendency to obsess, I will ignore them book in favor of new projects. I get the feeling that’s the way of things. Or not. Shit, it’s gonna change as I go like wind shifts.

Diary-Ha!

Work in Progress #1

This morning finds me chit chatting addicts and addiction behavior with coworkers. When we compare our front line stories there’s a lot of knowing similarities. The swapping is super therapeutic and a great reminder for keeping on top of sobtriety. Tally ho!

So releasing of pics will happen with this post and continue going forward. Expect many “works in progress” and practice pics. I hate to qualify the showing of pictures as if the action were a big deal or (shrug) anyone gives a fuck. Given that I can’t live up to my own perfectionism, I have to prep myself for unnecessary shame. Prep and move beyond.

I guess that’s just the kinda guy I am.

You know what? There are so many uncertainties. Those future targets are always moving targets. My aim is blurry and the shooting hand is shaky. Calm myself, take it a day at a time, and maintain what faith is there; I’ll do myself and this effort a service.

Speaking of, is there a plan? Pft! We’re I a man with a plan I’d be way Way WAY further along. No. Let’s focus on basics. Self care, exercise, clean eating, and build from there.

I fully plan for and even expect hiccups. Lord knows, what’s life without the hiccups… So many hiccups…

Alas with digressions, uh, yeah. This counts as a post and this counts as a slick closing thought.

Fake It Until… Wait

Fake it until you make it, ladies and gents. An axiom I’ve come to live by a few different times. It’s not at all bad if it gets you through to the other side of one project or another. As far as lifestyle, it’s a recipe for repression. So, as the old saying goes: Be careful with the words you live by.

Hashing that shit around because, fuck, it’s what a dithering mind does.

I’m low status, low wage, minimal materialism with no debt, tons of free time, flexible, comfortable. What little I have, I feel as though my shit is together.

I’m not sure why I insist on being an artist author. I’m convinced my salvation will not be found in either. It’s also the case where I hate to throw away all the hours I invested into my crafts… There’s some suffrage id really really like to vindicate. There’s also the very stark realization that if I don’t chase those, I’ll stop chasing. I will effectively give up and let the emptiness consume.

None of us want that.

Thus, I’m back at the grind. While I whole heartedly doubt my salvation will be found in either art or writing. At least they keep me on the path and moving. Who knows, maybe I can settle on redemption.

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