Because of the aforementioned head gasket,

things around here have been a little scrambly.  J's been taking extra shifts at work, and I've been kicking it into gear with the letting go of artworks that I've been holding onto.

(Most artists can tell you -- there's a time in the process where you're really too close to the thing to see it objectively.  It's your baby.  You made that.  And that holding on phase can last a while.  It does, eventually, end, and you can show or sell it at that point, but before that...it's like taking a too-small child somewhere and leaving him for the first time.  Seriously.)

I have a whole bunch of very large canvases that I've done in the past couple years.  For some reason, the big ones mean more to me.  I didn't do them with the intent of selling them, really -- they were more for me, which means they're more personally meaningful of course, but also that attachment thing has been stronger with them, too.

But lately, even before the gasket of doom, I've been feeling like it might be time.

One thing this retreat schedule's taught me is that I need space to focus.  Too much clutter -- physical, mental, or otherwise -- and the weight of the possibilities starts to drag me down.  

I need space to stretch.  Empty places where I can rest my eyes and my cup of coffee.  Where my attention isn't torn into fifty directions.

After all, stuff is energy.  It demands you pay attention to it, to care for it, to let it live up to what it's supposed to be doing with itself.  You can't give it that kind of attention if you can't even remember what all of it is, even.

And these big paintings have been behind my couch for safekeeping for a long time.  That's a lot of stuck energy.

So I decided to un-stick it.

I'm listing them slowly, because I'm giving them an extra coat of UV varnish and touching up the edges on each one.  (Also because every time I touch one, I'm all like but I love this one, despite the fact that I'm saying that to every single one of them, and my house doesn't have that much wall space.

Let go.

Let go.

Let go.

Check them out if you're looking for art.  Or you just want to adopt an overly-coddled baby canvas.  Or you want me to come to your house.

(Well, if you're in Seattle, Portland, or points inbetween, that is.  If you buy a big one, there's a discount for hand delivery or for local pickup.  Shipping big paintings is kind of a production number, and I worry about them in transit sometimes.  So, yep.  I'll bring them to you.  I'm just that kind of midwife.)
And y'know what all of this has to do with writing week?  Not a thing.  I've been hijacked by the letting go-ness of it all.
As soon as these are photographed, I'll be writing again.  I'm listening to a lot of writing classes/books, but that's not writing itself.  

Sooooon.  SOOOOON.

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