Then again, so does life.
It never chooses the clear-cut path we envision for it… we forge on by strength of will or be caught in the tide.
So, I have wanted to work on my commissioned painting, but I am finding painting to be an evening endeavour – something soothing and quiet that I can put away when finished, rather than interrupted.
Needless to say, that has not been possible the last few days, and I’ve tried to focus my creative drive in other ways that can withstand shorter bursts of attention. In response, I have made several armatures of dragonlings that I’ve been requested to create by November,
Dragons never look like much, in the beginning…
and I’ve been stubbornly attempting to plow through my writing goals via sheer force of will.
Only at chapter three…
Needless to say, I am struggling with the writing…
Yesterday’s hopeful afternoon was earmarked for fleshing out the armatures… my Little Miss was so excited to come ‘help’ that she… ended up insisting I take her clay and make her a dragon. :P
I may not have accomplished what I set out to do, but this whimsical flight of fancy is slowly shaping up into something that I find oddly pleasing.
Is it… hard to tell it’s a dragon? Perhaps. The Miss originally insisted I add wings, and just try to remind her of the Luck Dragon from Neverending Story… oh no. Today she has proudly shown it off to anyone that will listen. ::smiles::
I wanted the whimsy of a child’s hand, coupled with hints of an artistic eye. I am now at this awkward tipping point where I keep that desire, or let it go… and yet I’m afraid I will lose what made the piece so enjoyable in the first place. The playful awkwardness has been – up until this point – intentional.
Life goes on… children grow older.
Party bags do not sew themselves… my friend has graciously accepted my request for aid, and I have yet to find the time to finish prepping them for her. (We agreed upon tomorrow.)
That’s a good sign for bed; I know what I’m up to in the morning.