The fervor I'm feeling with my work again, is as addictive as any drug, its euphoric and misleading because I know the downside to the natural chemical low after a period of creativity. I need to manage it better and work it to my advantage, because I can't afford to be thrown to the mercy of a mood regression.
Still, I've not been this prolific in a long time-perhaps I am realising that with less time ahead than behind me, I can no longer afford to fuck about-time is simply running out, and I have wasted so much of it, lost to the contemplation of predicament, when I should just have worked through it.
Tomorrow, I am working on publicity for the show on the 16th, along with a commission and speculating a new piece-busy as a proverbial bee then.
Before I forget, here is today's sketchbook post.
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