Ah...summertime. The heat, the humidity. The sweat, the stink, the bugs, the poison ivy. The black raspberries, the blackberries, the wineberries. Homegrown tomatoes, snap peas, the barbeque. So much to hate. So much to love.
This is the first summer in a while that I do not have to take graduate classes. I have no major vacation planned. I have no pending solo show or gallery contract. My adult painting class was canceled. My oldest daughter graduated. I finished all of her college paperwork (I think).
I can finally relax.
I didn't rush to my painting shed because I didn't have to.
When I did get in there I decided to clean it. Ancient, tubes of half-empty paint which long ago lost their caps were tossed. An old sketchbook was opened and I drew with a pencil. Long forgotten reference photos were rediscovered.
I found a coupon. Fifty percent off of anything at Michael's. Thought I would get myself some brush cleaner. When I got there I found stretched canvasses on sale. I bought nine. Started painting again this week.
People are always complaining about teachers. We have it so easy being off for the summer and all. I know. We make too much money yada yada yada.
Just so you know, I am finally feeling relaxed. I'm almost caught up on my laundry and I've been sleeping until 8:00, sometimes 9:00 as opposed to 5:00 a.m. during the school year. I don't feel guilty.
Don't get me wrong. I love teaching. I love 95% of my students. Sometimes that other five percent suck the enthusiasm right out of me. Teenagers can be amazing, ambitious and fun or they can be total and complete idiots. Most of them are old enough to choose. Worse than the teenagers, however are the administrators. Our school is currently run by a team of nincompoops.
At any rate, I have a clean painting shed, nine blank canvasses, a little less stress, and a rested body.
I may finish some paintings.
Or maybe not.