Old age and art

The week has gone by without any blogs. A dry spell? An old age rearing its rickety head and amnesiac mind? Too much too little time? Maybe blogging wasn’t a thing to start. And what is it for?  Hardly any one reads my blogs, even less comment. I may have one reader, when I want thousands to adore me, even if that one on its own is valuable, so would all be.  Admiration and love is fine, but to buy my art even if isn’t polished, that would be sublime. And good for the mind heart and soul, I could go on. As is now…

…I get up and am thankful to be breathing but I don’t remember why I’m here for. I need things to remind me. As I eventually stumble into studio and face the blank canvas or canvas I worked on yesterday I am still puzzled. And I’m anxious because in two months or maybe three the studio will have to be vacated. All I have is today. I will be blogging about that from now on. Overcoming my anxiety and facings my fears and painting anyway.

What do you want me to blog about? How about how to make money by selling art works?

I do wonder how many artists are old and still capable of making a living as painters.

I wanted to post a blog and this was on my mind and here it is.

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