I hate limbo.
I am in the limbo stage in life. We are facing some massive changes in work, school and home. Fun, right? I am teaching art to the young adults in my church. This, I am definitely looking forward to. However, as I read through my notes (which are scattered, at best) I cannot decide where to begin and where I would like to have these kids grow. I was thinking this was going to be a snap, but I was so epically wrong.
A few weeks ago I started writing a book. I haven't written anything since February and not because of writer's block either. I honestly have not had the time to dedicate to it and now that I do, I have come to a complete plot stall. I hate that. I wrote the beginning and I know the end, but the guts are driving me nuts!!!
I also have four paintings, unfinished, on my desk. Some might laugh at me, wondering why I was unable to finish one before starting another. If I could let them into my brain for an afternoon, it would become crystal clear that paintings don't enter my mind one at a time. They come in multiples of three, five, seven and nine (ooh, look at that! I just used some sneaky artist terminology on you!! Anyone who knows what it means gets a free painting!). Here is taste of what's on my desk:
I'm not sure if you can see it, but the Giraffe has steampunk wings strapped to his back. It's very cool... that is, if I ever finish painting it.
This last one of all the horses and the family crest has been on my desk for five years and counting (embarrassing). I have enough going on right now, that I am spinning my wheels. It's daunting, but I end up doing things like cooking and I really shouldn't do that. I don't need any more smoke damage on the ceiling of my kitchen.
Limbo is a drag.