Letting My Heart Paint

In my most recent "Painter's Key" letter, this quote:

Ask yourself what you'd really love to do.
Teach yourself new ideas and new habits.
Use your mind and your hands simply for joy.
Measure life's progress by creative jobs done.
Raise expectations and the level of work quality.
Monitor the way you feel and what you're learning.

The first line really gets to me "Ask yourself what you'd really love to do". If you asked, would you get a truthful or accurate answer? I have always answered, "paint". Do I? Paint that is. The answer is no. And I think I would have to go into therapy to figure out why I refuse--yes, that is accurate, refuse to do what my heart loves to do.

Yesterday I brought canvas stretcher bars down from the attic. I have canvas to stretch across them and gesso to paint on the surface and brand new, very expensive acrylics just waiting to be opened and used. What will I paint? I don't even care. I will enjoy the process of dipping the brush into color and painting that color across the canvas. I will allow my heart to paint. And I will paint every day. ( I may not be able to keep that promise).

My car is still away. No phone call from the car doctor. My husband says "no news" is good, but I feel "no news" means Bruce is having a difficult time finding the problem.

Library Book Sale next week. More than 50K books in storage right now and no more places to put them. I'm in charge of setting up the tables, getting the boxes where they belong and then organizing the unloading of the books onto the tables. For the first time ever, I will be able to digitally tell this "story" on my blog. You will be amazed. I know that I am--every single year that I do this. My moment of zen. Order out of chaos.

I have canvas to stretch.