I can only tell you that my motivation has tanked out on me. I am finding it difficult to continue my painting and I am sitting here looking at it and wanting it to be more then it will be. I am a bit nervous about my lack of drive, it is a dangerous place to be in.

I find my peers are in a different place and I am in need of a good art conversation. So I will have a nice chat with this painting and hate every minute of its making. I will hate the paint, the brushes, the sound of it, and the realization that I am about to fall upon my own failure if I cannot keep up with an impossible schedule. So I am pushed ahead by my will but so much of me is reluctant. I just want to stop thinking and sit for a while. I am reaching for something but I am not sure what. Every moment I exist feels spoken for, when does it give back?

So I say Art mocks itself....