day #365 - the end of an era

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I thought I was on top of it; I had finished early and was looking for a movie to watch already 3 hours ago. And I don't know how time went by. A phonecall, some networking studying, some online shopping and here we are, already past the time for an early movie. Regardless, today is a special day. The blog is over! I finished 365 days of daily painting and recording it, whatever that means. A big part of the process I will have to keep doing mainly for myself. Perhaps taking daily photos of my work and saving it on some folder. This has provem useful many times when I trying to date a piece I've been working on. Also making a small diary of today's achievements. It's still useful. But this will be done for my eyes only. I also don't know if I will be continuing my obsessively daily painting. How would life be if I had days off? Now for example that I'm moving out and I have to daily chores that until now were completely taken care of, perhaps I'll allow my
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day #137 - Shame

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On one hand, I'm glad I spent some time playing with color-mixing; while nothing particularly enlightening came out of it, I got a better undersanding of raw and burnt umbre. I also like the funny easter egg in the sheet.
But I'm choking on shame, and that is why I need to expose it. You see, this is another day that early on I had the opportunity to do something “art related” and thus get it of my checklist. I was hoping that in the late night I’d still do an extra something but instead I got “lazy” and called it a day, and instead decided to watch a movie before going to bed tonight. Nothing extraordinary, just some good ol’rest.
But this is how the shame works - I do something everyday, day in day out, no rest, no weekends no days off, and if one day I decide to keep it to a minimum (30mins like today) in order to get some entertainment, I spit on my face. If I had been working until bed-time, and didn’t have the time for extensive painting/drawing the feeling wouldn’t be shame but despair (“alas, I’m going nowhere”).
Now, it  is shame, because apparently entertainment and rest is luxury.
I hate myself at times (at all times).

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