Saturday, July 2, 2011
THE DREAD MAHOCKISS
A Dry Hot Night 24x36" oil on canvas
Well, it seems I finally got it. I've been chatting with a few colleagues online and reading some blogs and finding that a good number of us are suffering from a general feeling of ca-ca and a decreased desire to paint. I've dubbed this "highly contagious virus" The Dread Mahockiss. It was a name a co-worker gave to a lingering feeling of malaise we used to complain about years ago. I loved the sound of it and have used it to define that free-floating feeling of ickyness, pertaining in this case to an increased feeling of dread as one approaches ones studio.
It started late last week when I felt my momentum begin to slow down. Then those uncomfortable glances into the studio began starting a butterfly migration in my stomach. Thankfully, I was just finishing up some certificate and commission work when it started so I'm in good shape deadline wise. I thought painting folds would be prevention perfect and stave off any lasting effects, but alas, it was too late.
I stopped in mid stroke, let go with a few choice expletives and put my brush down. I cleaned up, turned everything off, stomped out of the studio and took to my bed with the remote, a cup of tea, and a very convenient Burn Notice marathon on cable. That was Tuesday.
Nothing since. I've read that this illness is best treated with copious amounts of red wine and round thin potato disks deep fried in oil. Himself is being very kind as he's seen this before and knows it won't last too long. We'll see.
And...the boys got out again!! Thank God, I'm insanely vigilant and always look out of the living room window just in case—even though they're behind locked gates in the backyard. As I glanced out I unexpectedly spied a certain chubby little pug butt clear across the street in the neighbors flowers! Horrified I ran outside and again spirited Raz out of the street, put him safely in the house and headed out to chase Blu who went around the other side of the neighbors house. Happily he had strutted through their open gate to join the landscapers there hard at work and he was easily retrieved. That side gate now has a padlock on it. I'm stumped as to how it opened, we never use that side.
Anyway, despite my self-indulgent, bratty moodiness, I'd like to wish everyone a safe and happy Fourth!