It’s week two of NaNoWriMo and I am still writing. I’m convinced that everything I’m writing is crap and I will never write anything good and I should just give up and stop trying, but I remember that week two always feels this way, so I keep going. This is also the time I start thinking that next year, I will be a planner, not a pantser. I hope I really mean it this time. My story is all over the place because I just introduce some characters and let them do whatever they want. It turns out they want to be boring. They don’t know they’re in a story and they just go about their everyday business, doing everyday things in everyday ways. Whenever I ask them to do something interesting, they start heading down those dark paths I’m trying to avoid.
Sigh…that probably means I’m going to have to go there. I swear I will not write something relentlessly bleak and hopeless. If I go dark, it will be funny dark, not desperately dark. Right now, I’m still arguing with my muse and my plot bunny, but they will probably have their way. I need to keep writing and that means I need to put my typing fingers at the service of my anthropomorphized helpers. I didn’t plan, so I’m pretty much at their mercy.
At this point, it’s about getting out of my own way. That seems to be true of the painting, too. If I think too much while I’m painting, I hate everything I paint. Nothing looks the way I want it to look or the way I hoped it would look. I’m trying things and I feel as if they’re not working and they will never work and I’m a terrible painter and I’m not getting any better and maybe I should just give up.
I have to just paint. If I do that and I let myself have a good time, I end up with a painting that pleases me. It may not look exactly like the model in front of me, but I like it anyway. I’m learning to trust the process. If I’m painting, I’m improving.
This pleases me. It’s a golden acorn squash and I had fun painting it. I know it’s not perfect, but that doesn’t bother me. It’s my painting. I had fun. I like it.