Hanging on a line, waiting for a sign, smelling the scent of August pine

It’s a lovely afternoon in mid-August and my pugs are enjoying moving from sun to shade as we sit outside enjoying the breeze and the chirping crickets around us. My view of the backyard is blocked by my canvases – that is, my virgin white sheets of fabric hanging on a makeshift clothesline that have a long journey ahead of them. Will they be wall hangings? Quilts? Bookcloth? Or, abandoned good intentions on my storage shelf? I hope not the last one as I have next to me my art journal where I have some sketches and ideas ready to bring to fruition for these lovelies swinging in the summer breeze. The fabric, cotton, silk, rayon, and linen are washed (primed), and ready for some dye (paint), imagination (a haphazard plan), and some practiced skill (uninterrupted work time).

Today is an awkward day as I took today off, and all this week, to be home for the pugs as we have our bathrooms remodeled. It’s an awkward day because the workers didn’t show up as one of them had an emergency plumbing problem. I am known for my anxiety (worse than the pugs for whom I took a few vacation days for to spend some time with them), so how can I create my art, even think about projects when I’m worried when (and now “if”) the doorbell will ring to announce the beginning of the construction workday? It’s an awkward limbo status not knowing how to accommodate the workers and my studio time and I want to say today is a wasted day as I didn’t create but instead I managed to do prep work. This kind of busy work can be done anytime, usually in-between layers of paint or when I have artist’s block (just like writer’s block but with a paintbrush in my hand and my brow furrowed in agonizing creative pain).

I did mention it was a lovely afternoon outside and so with that I am grateful I am not at work answering phone calls and e-mails and being a problem solver. Wait, I’m still needed as a problem solver with my fabric projects. I think I’ll make some coffee, iced of course, and lament on my next step with or without the contractors coming tomorrow.

And no apologies for the title of this post, I didn't have my breakfast toast, I'll blame it on the rhyming ghost.