Thanks Perfectionism!



As I understand it, last week’s post was awfully thin. Not the usual robust stew that’s been thoughtfully served. Accordingly,  we’ll open up this week’s post with a very nice and finished self portrait. One I originally wanted to invest only a few hours into. Once perfectionism took over, however, those few hours became lots and lots. Veiled complaints aside, I’m proud of it. As soon as the finishing stroke was applied it felt good. It felt right.

Next, I’m finished with wheelin-n-dealin in cars. What a whirlwind the past two weeks have been. I’ve learned a lot about cars and the car business. About how carsalesmen, living up to their reputation, will rob you at every opportunity. About multiple DMV visits and how one can both be driven to and from the facility as well as to and from the brink of insanity. About tolerating all the dry minutia of insurance, loans, and licensure as, chore by chore, we stitch this whole thing together. Good news is: we’re all done.

Shiny new truck in tow, pun very much intended, we’re ready to go. Yes, you just might hear me mention modifications or some such. Nothing too fancy pants, a camper shell, maybe a luggage rack. No real biggies. That exception casually floated out there, the whole ordeal is finally over with. Time to move forward.

The San Francisco show is a month out. The show is booked, lodgings are booked, books are booked. Ready to go. Inventory, equipment, and transport are all accounted for. Still, you remember that perfectionism thing I mentioned in reference to the selfie, turns out that same behavior bleeds into my business practices. Long story short, there few hours planned will multiply into lots and lots. Thanks perfectionism!

I’m sure I’ve droned on about framing and selling additional paintings. Guess what, that plan is the same and will be reinforced now. Gots me all the supplies, plenty of motivation, just need the time now. The month of August is reserved to be that “time”. Starting tomorry.

And, whenever framing fatigue sets in, we’ll work on other pursuits instead. The more muscular of the next book’s illustrations will be started with a nibble here and a nibble there. Poetry, don’t forget those sick rhymes, yo. There’s self promoting, get out there and shake them hands and kiss them babes . . . er, babies . . . No, I like babes, I’ll kiss babes. And, after all that and with life planned to a tee, I will bravely attempt to stave off stress with something impulsive and fun.

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