I’d been thinking all week of how I could possibly take a photograph of my definition of confident. I wanted to post something about The Midnight Diner going to print–how I had all these plans for a big reveal of the book at the conference I’m attending this weekend, Context 23. But then I received word from the printer (multiply times over) that there was some problem with the file and I admitted defeat…I’m not going to have a book to take with me even though I paid for a dealer’s table months ago.
Then I got an email that my book proposal for Visual Prayer was rejected.
So. Y’know. Confidence is something that’s just not tangible right now.
Maybe that’s why my brain forced me to turn off all things logical (and painful) to spend hours and hours in my makeshift studio. I entered at 10am Saturday. I did stop to eat, but went right back to it. Left after midnight. So 14ish hours on Saturday.
Woke up Sunday to find I wasn’t finished. Entered around 9:30am. Left at 11pm last night. Almost 14 hours Sunday.
28 hours of creating.
And I’m not finished. I want to spend all day in there again, but I have (ick) responsibilities (ick) I even hate that word right now. I just want to be surrounded by my art.
It makes me feel confident.
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