It's just a place I'm looking for...

I spent a nice morning on the ferry. It was difficult getting up, but the weather was awesome. Really bright, crisp cold and not a whisp of cloud in the sky. I had shot back my macchiato, and was starting to wake up. Eyes closed, feeling the sun behind them. We were sitting at the front on the lower deck. The wind picked up once we were between the heads and the water began to get more choppy. Loved it. The sea was this cold deep pthalo blue. Just wanted to run my fingers through it I feel lucky to live here.

I was struggling with the art yesterday. And I guess I sort of went through a mini crisis. I was forcing myself to draw even though I didn't really feel like it. Doubt, like the demon it is, was sitting crouched on my shoulder. Quiet frustration seeping into the dailies, the beautiful fruitlessness of it all.

There seemed too many directions to take. Too many loose strings that were begging all to be tied and made sense of. Too many ideas running through my mind. How are they all linked? What's the pattern? Or are they all completely independent of each other? Being indecisive and hesitant is another foible of mine. The current solution is to do things half arsed. There's no failure in being non-commital. But I know this isn't working for me, so things have to change.