Nesting

Well, I actually touched my art supplies today--They were in the way of gym equipment I need to sell, which is currently residing in my studio-to-be. As I fussed with rearranging boxes, unpacking, and throwing out, it reminded me of getting ready childbirth. There was this nesting obsession that occurred immediately preceeding the "big event." Before my daughter was born I planted the entire garden (which was huge). When I had birth pangs with my youngest son, I got up at 2am and washed the floors of the whole house. Odd. Instinctual. But readiness.

Something is about to announce itself, I can feel it. So instead of condemning myself for not actually creating again, I am accepting that this is part of the process--the gestation of a painting.