Sometimes, I just get really pissed off. I miss my Boo! I want my dog back! It feels like I have regressed to my two year old self. Not that I could act out then. Oh, nonono. But today, when there is no one in the little yellow house but me and the Pickle, well, who cares if I just stomp around and kick stuff. Those boxed that I threw in a corner were handy targets, but I actually broke them down and put them in the recycling container the other day. So I just did a big nothing with paint and paper, a spiral of grief, with a hot center. That's what it feels like, like I could fall into it and burn myself up. Makes me thirsty to look at it. Off to get a diet root beer. And more paint. Have burned through most of the pigments! I like doing these nothing paintings. No investment in anything, not the expense, not the outcome. Just about process. Perhaps that is always true. You think?
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