Wednesday, October 7, 2009
For the past couple of weeks, we have had a parade of guys going through our home - those guys who fix what needs fixing and who replace what we don't know how to do ourselves. Jeremy the boiler guy. Dasun the countertop and sink guy. Charles the septic guy. These guys help our daily lives move along smoothly and prevent break-downs. I really do appreciate the expertise and knowledge of all of these guys. But waiting for them is another matter. I try to paint, to enter the creative world where minutes swiftly turn into hours. Each stroke is put on in hesitation, with the knowledge that this stroke might be the last before I hear the worker knocking at my door. The stokes become timid and halting and restrictive. It is no use. Either the worker guys work, or I work. There really can be no compromising here. No putting on a stroke in-between checking the thermostat in zone one. Another stroke before making sure the kitchen faucet is open. Very frustrating. Creative work is so very different from other kinds of work that have built in starting and ending points. Being creative requires time with no limits, at least very few. The minutes must be able to become hours if need be. Ah, time.