A little bird asked me yesterday why I haven't been blogging as frequently this month.
Bless you, little bird, for caring! I've been in the s**t, friends. The creative s**t. It's a glorious, terrifying, and metaphorically bloody place.
In less poetic terms, I'm still working on that project I wrote about last time.
Observe: the canvasses below look absolutely nothing like the two times I painted them.
What fresh hell is this? I don't know. All my clothes have paint on them. Rafa's got it in his hair. There are improbable streaks of it on Oscar's legs. My bathroom sink is clogged with it. There's laundry to fold and I need a haircut.
It's do or die, friends. Will you wish me luck? I'm going in.
