After I wrote yesterday, I went on a walk to process my thoughts on what art I should be making. Or want to make, rather. Or need to make. 

I realized a theme I want to develop, and that many of the subjects I'm interested in can be combined, so I can kill a few birds with one stone by mixing and matching the subject matter that interests me. 

I think what I realized is my hesitancy to start making works that will take me months to create.

I used to make these kinds of paintings, and I think I only sold one of them. People did buy prints of them, so I know the stories I created in these paintings resonated with them. I feel awkward about spending months essentially creating illustrations. Cartoons. I want to make glamorous, intricate cartoons. 

Even if they don't sell, I think they'd do well as prints and even in books or magazines, so from a business stand-point, I know I can explore those outlets. 

At this point, however, I'd really like to not think of the outcome, where these paintings will end up. It's hard for me not to think about that. But for now, I am trying to come down off the this mountain, put down my binoculars, and just do the work. 

I know I can devote 15 minutes a day to these paintings or more. I've even been dreaming of ways I can hang out with people and paint. I'm going up to my family's cabin tomorrow with a painter and we're going to work. 

How can I enmesh painting with the full, rich life, surrounded by (a tiny, well-thought out group of) people, that I want? 

Work for an artist means solitude. Being the champion of alone time that I am, it's not always easy to be alone and work. 

But I think, even more, I am worried about this slow process of making this work. I like more instant gratification. I guess I will see what happens. I'm all ready working on a painting and enjoying it immensely. I have to remember to just take it one step at a time and not get overwhelmed by the bigger picture. Pun intended.

I'm writing about the following, as I often to, to help me come to a solution. 

I can't figure out what art I should be making. I have ideas for at least ten different types of work. I keep having to ask myself what's essential.

I've even gone so far as to visualize being 80, thinking back on what makes me proud that I've accomplished. I think about the end so I can figure out what I'm supposed to be doing now.

Right now, the reality of my life is that:

1. I am trying to focus on my health- physical and mental.

2. I am trying to focus on income so that I'm not destitute the rest of my life.

3. I'm trying to be self-employed, which I truly believe is my calling, but giving up, at least for now, that it would be completely art-related income. So... trying to start a different business. 

4. Trying to give myself more to healthy relationships in my life. Trying to foster intimacy with a tiny amount of people- something that has been lacking in my life. Art is important, but people are the most important. My good relationships are the most important. 

5. Service to those who need it. 

Then after all that's done- I make artwork. And I think about artwork. And I want to make everything I think about, but there's not enough time to do it all. I can accept that.

So What's Essential? What do I have to make?

Here is a list of ideas:

1. cat cut outs

2. Folksy, spiritual, dark paintings

3. small fashion collages

4. fashion drawings

5. heavy cartoons

6. large narrative paintings

7. large fashion collages

8. these collage text works I have ideas for

9. geometric/ abstract found object works

10. small narrative paintings

11. more little wooden cut outs

12. large scale animal collages

13. wood cut out pet portraits

This is a pretty comprehensive list. 

The narrative paintings keep bugging me. They are hard and laborious and elusive, but they keep bugging me. I know I have to make them, but what if they take up all my extra time? What if I can't make cat cut outs?

The cats don't just serve the purpose of being cute. I practice technique and color combos. They help me with larger works. They are adorable, but they are important. 

I know I will make time for what's essential. I have cut out many things- and now I'm getting to the nitty gritty- I'm cutting back on alcohol and excess food (distracting myself with feeling full to the brim). I am cutting back on Netflix and social engagements. I wake up early to create. I create on the weekends. I am not exhibiting as much. Exhibiting takes up so much time. 

I observe from the list above that I can combine many of the things into each other. I've gotten stuck on this path of making small quick things. I want to sell work. I want to have price points that are low. I love the business side of art, so the small, quicker work allows me to play in that game, which I enjoy. 

But I fear it's keeping me from something deeper I'm wanting to make work about. All the small products symbolize large chunks of time I could devote to larger, more intricate works. 

I also like how small things have an end in sight. When I make a larger work, I don't have a good idea about how long it will take me. I get stuck along the way. It's not as easy to see the next step. But that's really all that it is. One step at a time, over and over, until it's right.

But I've gotten near the end of a large work so many times, and not been happy with where it's gone. You can't hit Undo. You can't use the Paint Bucket to fill in the wrong color. I don't like that aspect of the large works. If I need to change one or two things, it will take hours and hours to fix. 

Is there a way to avoid that? Or is that a part of it? I have a painter friend who says that's what he enjoys most about painting. The editing. I do only when it's small. 

And then this gets me into another subject. Sometimes I feel like I am more a designer than an artist. If I don't like the process of editing... I want a map that shows me the way, directly and in the shortest amount of time. I don't want to waste time, materials, or money. I am thrifty. I don't have a team to help. It's just me. 

Ok, I will let these thoughts rest for now...

I'm terrible at quoting books and movies, but I'll butcher it anyway to get the gist across...

I think it was in Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. She is talking about the creative process. And she's telling the story of a writer who would get inspired at the most inopportune moments. She'd be outside, working in the garden, and the creative inspiration would roll in like a mighty wind, and she'd have to run inside to catch it all on paper.

I don't remember who she was talking about, but I love and hate this story.

I think it was also Tom Waits who would get inspired while his hands were on the wheel, and he'd grunt, "Not while I'm driving!"

I've been waking up at 2, 3, 4am. For years. I don't want to do anything at this hour. Nuuuuu-thiiiiing. 

But I'll lie in bed and think about writing, or about a painting that hasn't been born yet. Or let fantastical anxieties dance through my mind.

I've gotten up the past two days. Yesterday at 4am. Today at 2:45am. It's 4:14am right now. I wrote yesterday, and developed the idea for a new painting, one that I have asked to patiently wait for its turn. it told me it's not going to wait.

I all ready drew this morning, something I started last night. And now I'm writing, which is something I daydream about constantly but never do.

There is something deep within me that won't let me rest. Sometimes I believe it's God. Or God's hand on me, the person he made me to be- full of pesky inspiration. Whatever it is, it won't let me rest. There is something it wants from me that I've been neglecting, at my own expense. It's hard to want to go deeper, into pain, or grief, or ideas. I believe it won't let me rest until I've processed it through my hands, to process the beauty, too. 

You'd think it would be easy to recognize this deep prodding and follow it, but it's not. I'm sleepy right now, and I may be sleepy the rest of the day while at work. And I hate feeling sleepy. I also don't want to - no, I do want, but- it's hard to make this work that I have asked to wait. I don't feel ready for what it's going to take. And I'm fearful of making work that isn't readily available to share and show. It could take years to create. 

Or not.

I think this is why I moved my studio home. I knew my brushes needed to be closer to my bed. Getting to them by car at 2am would never work. 

Last year, I began to let go. I managed a small gallery at Magpies Bakery, I was participating in First Friday shows in Knoxville at least every other month, and I was the Director 17th Street Studios.

I let go of all of these things.

It's August, eight months since, and I've been thinking about all of the other things I'd like to stop.

• Twitter
• Etsy
• Showing in Knoxville every month
• Pinterest
• Possibly- multiple Instagram accounts
• Snapchat

Oh yeah, I let go of Facebook last year, too.

I don't miss any of the things of which I've let go. However, there are little voices telling me I need to manage content on all social media platforms, especially if I want to represent myself as an artist. But I don't love social media. And I don't even use most of the outlets I listed above, except for Instagram.

I've thought about getting off of Instagram many times. When things get really dark, which happens on a consistent basis. But I inevitably feel better and my interest in Instagram is renewed. I'm grateful for how it gives me the ability to share.

I want to let go of all the superfluous stuff so that I can focus on a few things and do them well. So this project of streamlining continues.

There's so much clutter in our world digitally.  There's so much clutter physically. I am constantly getting rid of things. 

By the end of 2018, I'd like to be done with this process. I'm trying to get to the point where I can tackle organizing my computer files and photos, and to finally create inventory lists of all my artwork. There's a website called ArtworkArchive I want to check out. 

I'm sorting through my childhood boxes, brought up from my parent's home. This is hard. This little box of erasers that I've spent my whole life looking at, that meant something to me when I was little- how do I let go of that? (I have a way- in case you're curious.)

If I'm overwhelmed, I am paralyzed. I multitask a lot, but there's too much piling up right now. Not only the digital and the physical, but ideas, and things I want to do. Goals. 

So I've created spreadsheets to organize my ideas. There are three: One for my personal life, one for art, and one for my Home Organizing business. I have tabs where I put everything I can wait for, so that I know I've written it down, but I don't have to think about it right now. 

There's a lot of organizing that I'm doing, to cope with the influx of stuff. I get motivated often these days, to sort through the clutter. I get rid of as much as I can. I try to let go of ideas, too. Life it too short for this constant organizing of stuff that's just in the way.

There is all the piles of emotional stuff I'm working through, too. The lifetime of journals, the notes on scraps of paper, the books, the podcasts, the things I want to process, the phone calls I need to make.

With art, I'm not certain what I'm supposed to focus on. I think that a lot of times, I make certain artwork that is a distraction from the work I'm really supposed to make. I make work that feels easy to me and worry that it's keeping me form making the work that could be damaging if it was not accepted. The work that has been sitting in my brain, waiting for me to sit down and make it. 

I have to get rid of all the piles- the physical, the digital, the emotional- so I can get to the ideas. So I can make the most of my time. I am 34, and I hope to paint for the next 50 years at least. And there are at least ten bodies of work I'd like to start making right now. What if I only have 20 years. What if I only have 5, or 1. 

It's vital to me to find space, order, focus, and discipline, so that I can make the work I was made to make, for however long I'm granted life on this wonderful and cluttery earth.