Wednesday September 29, 2004
I’m frightened to start, that’s what it is. I have a canvas board on the easel, not a large one, just 14×10 inches to start with. My new paint tubes are arranged in a neat arc, brushes and palette knife by their side, and an upturned white enamel plate ready to do duty as a palette until I can find an old one or buy new. I’ve been looking at a photograph for two days, transferring it, line by line, shape by shape into my mind where it’s modulating and gaining a life of its own. I have a stick of charcoal close by to make the first marks. Everything is ready. Except for me.
So I’ve spent the day hiding like a timid rabbit, reading instead of painting, resting up after yesterday’s exercise, and waiting…
It’s worse than watching the kettle boil.