I did it again. I forgot I have to paint. I don’t mean I forgot I have work to do or I forgot I have a deadline. I mean I forgot I HAVE to paint.

At first I didn’t realize what the problem was. “I’m scattered,” I’d say, “What’s wrong with me? I keep forgetting things.” Enter the dreaded, stereotypical “flaky artist.” After the second missed appointment, third panicked car key search, fourth forgotten errand, and tenth stress headache, I realized- I haven’t been painting. We’ve been in and out of town and I don’t have any looming deadlines for which I feel ill-prepared, so I’ve allowed other things to get in the way. Mistake. It’s not a job with paid vacation. It’s who I am. It’s how I organize my thoughts. The world is full of so many things to look at and so much stimulation that if I don’t have that out-flow I guess my brain sort of overloads and shuts down.

So today, noticing the pinks, greens, and yellows harmonizing on an onion skin, I put down the dish towel I was using and picked up my paintbrush. Upon finishing my little painting in a much calmer state of mind I paid an almost forgotten bill and prepared my daughter’s bag for her first day of mother’s day out. Relief. (Somewhat) organized me is back.