Chumbawumba

Why? Because, that's why.

Also because, as Gershwin put it, "things are looking up" -- I've had a couple interviews and am working on getting a third scheduled. Honestly, it's just nice to know I'm being noticed. Sitting at home all day, or driving around on various errands in town, is not all high heels and pearls and perfectly coiffed hair -- there's a distinct lack of purpose going on there, too.

More like the woman on the right, is what I'm saying.

Now, I know - in the grand scheme of things, I'm supposed to be setting up my art practice so I can one day be self-employed, and being self-employed would eventually mean spending a great deal of my time at home in my studio - but for now, the lack of a direct link between my making art and my making money (and my fears stemming from the threat of not making money) renders the whole process rather empty for me.

Nevertheless, just as I am starting to have some luck in the job market (fingers crossed!), I'm starting to see things turn around in the studio. I hadn't put pen -- or charcoal, or brush, or pastel -- to paper for over six months, and this past weekend, I went into the studio, hung up a sheet of paper, and started to draw. A big, giant, Christmas Card of an image -- not because I needed to do it for class, and not because I think I could sell it or gain gallery representation through it, but because I was feeling an emotion that I wanted to put on paper (maybe it's part of "risking my talent?"). I stayed up till three a.m. drawing, and as I shoved Mr. back onto his side of the bed before laying down, I felt better. Not automatically happier, but more like I'd just had a really good cry without smudging mascara all over my face. And it wasn't because I accidentally pulled his hair and woke him up as I fluffed up my pillow -- though that was pretty damn funny.

And if making art or tugging hair ever fails, there are always other options . . .