Another float? An autumn thought? A persuasive text on indulgence, or a painting lesson? What to say this time? These days my head is wrapped around a puzzle. Usually in the studio that means I am "in transition". A useful term to put a label on a temporary term of agitated discomfort. Tell that to someone giving birth, or a teenager wrestling through a"phase", or a CEO with a business balancing on an edge. I have found the words very useful because usually I don't think of them until I am halfway through. I toss and turn and grumble, maybe growl, feel out of sorts, displaced. The painting may be going very well, everything moving along. But somewhere deep inside there is a restlessness, pushing and shoving. And then it will come to me, oh man, I am in transition! Some how it puts me more at ease. I know there is a present coming. A wise man told me once upon a time that staying with the discomfort, letting it process through, leads to another level. Not an Ellysian Field but a space where I can be that fits the growth that just took place, that is actually more me.So as I look at this glowing cake, the chocolate is glossy, the toffee has its crunch, I am actually amazed. Through the headache, the sleeplessness, the itchy indecision, the shall I this or that...the paint is still true. It carries on. It is actually the reason for all the other stuff. Focus is a funny thing. The lessons that one learns. Sometimes there are no words that conveniently display all the parts that we go through to keep the paint alive. But don't you see it when we don't put ourselves into it? The difference is so glaring. Art is a living breathing thing. It requires some doing. But a huge part of it is really , really , being.