It's winter in Pennsylvania. Last week the wind chill was -18 and today, 60 and raining, hard...go figure. The weather is all over the map, as am I in my post-Christmas/New Year/trying to get back at it manic/stupor. Everything is put away and organized. Uncluttered space usually frees me to get on with the business of creating. But that's just it. Now my business IS creating, and somehow that sucks out the fun and injects the pressure. There are days when paying bills is actually preferable to getting in the studio. Confounding, isn't it?

There's no laundry to fold, no kids to cart around, no groceries put away and the house is clean...a miraculous moment of epic proportions. Why, then, is it so hard to engage creatively? My studio is steps away with midway work staring me in the face. I've come to realize that in order to really engage it takes, at least for me, a clean slate in my brain. My mind is awash with thoughts of sick parents, children far from home (be it physically or emotionally) and sobering media about the current state of our world. Yeah, I'm distracted.

So today I'm going to listen to the rain pounding on my window. I'm going to finish a cup of tea without microwaving it five times. I'm going to get in the studio and smell that familiar scent of turpentine and remember the "why" behind the art. And I'll get to it.