No, it’s not done. Thirteen hours later and I learn two things. First, I should have stopped three hours ago. Second: can’t rush things. In my semiconscious effort to finish the painting, my mental fatigue finally caught up with me where I was making more mistakes and slowly ruining the picture. I have a couple hours worth of backtracking to do. Right now I am looking it over, occasionally glaring at it. I am glad I put in the work, I am proud of my efforts, even if “finishing the piece by Sunday” was all a lie, the “lie” motivated me to put some hustle in my game. It kept me on track and focused.

Still, I’m heartbroken over it all.

My brain is in a weird state. Like silly putty, only less silly and more putty. I’m going to say I’m on the mend. I’ll be damned to donuts if I don’t paint again today. That is to say: I will keep at the piece. Painting will happen later. For now, I will be staring and reviewing the err of my ways. Scheming on how to rectify and redeem what I have. A little bit of nursing my wounded pride might also happen. I’ll improvise.

I will start to give the upcoming show a little more attention. It doesn’t really need that much attention. It’s just important to me I put on a decent show. Framing of pictures and getting those beat up old frames sexy again is a good start. I have roughly less than a month. So long as I don’t neglect anything, I’ll be alright. I’ll do well.

Speaking of not neglecting things . . . I will scribble up a list of things need doing. It’s just the way I am, For every ounce of attention to detail I can give, I can give just as much neglect. Unfortunately, “important things” make their way onto that list. I suspect it would do me well to make time to get my affairs in order. Clean the house, reconnect with acquaintances, review  opportunities.

Maybe I’ll find some time to relax.