You work as hard as you can your mind like the earth

Art is a bur in your side

One slip and you are done

Your own work becomes mad at you

The mess is intoxicating and intolerable to look at

My work is bad my art is bad

Try again make it better

Everything takes one hundred years

I find a darkness in my sunlight

You work more and more

Then a switch turns on

Everything becomes easier

The endless perfection of it like biting into a crispy egg

Art is the rock that brings me back to reality

Your whole mindset changes

The brush has a mind of its own

Your work is crisp and confident

Everything gets better

Everything turns out marvelous

After years of work

You will love the bewitching uncertainty of it