Five a.m. comes quickly around my house and it usually includes an eighteen month old boy who refuses to go back to sleep. Pick me up mom, or I will scream bloody murder until the other two kids wake up, foggy and disgruntled, to join the party. It’s going to be a great day. It probably wouldn’t be so hard to wake up if I could control myself and go to bed at a decent time.
I was up until after midnight working away on my “Hunting Van” project. I probably should have quit around 10:30 when I still had control of hands and my emotions-and wasn’t doing the head bob. Unfortunately, my self control is minimal-especially so late at night-and I’m clearly too darn stubborn to admit that perhaps pushing myself through heavy eyelids and dragging shirt-sleeves will likely end in tears. I don’t know what happened and I really don’t know what I’m going to do about it yet but I set a goal on the night and I reached it. Only, somewhere along the way I stopped liking the way my painting was turning out so I went to bed feeling unhappy with it. Then, I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn and immediately began stewing over what the eff I’m going to do to redeem myself.
Brightside! There were not actually any tears, this happens every time. Every time. Without fail, there is a point in my process that I completely turn on myself and doubt my ability to translate the images from my head onto the canvas. I know this actually sounds the dimmest, for real, but sunshine is on the horizon! This is the turning point in my “Hunting Van” story. This is the point where, a year ago, I would have quit. I would have given up and hastily placed yet another wasted effort and all of its wasted materials in all of its wasted glory against the wall-next to all of the other abandoned canvases in my basement where good ideas, that I didn’t follow through on, go to die. But wait! That was then. Let’s talk about what’s going to happen now...
Now that I have reached the turning point, I get to make a decision that ultimately will determine how this story ends. Today, I choose me. It has taken me a long time and I have taken a lot of risks to learn to trust myself. But I do. Even though I cannot stand the way my painting looks at the moment, I have pushed myself through this part enough times in the past that, beyond the shadow of a doubt, if I carry on the sun will rise again. If I can muster up enough courage to get through the ugly parts of this project and give myself the opportunity to bounce back, I absolutely will. The painting will have no choice because even at my lowest point I made the decision to see it through-which only really means that I will work at it until I'm happy with it again and at that point it will have been a total success, in more ways than just one. Tenille-1, Doubt-0.