The last nine paintings I've posted here have now all sold, plus five others, all in the space of a few weeks. Do I need to attempt to wax lyrical about how amazingly over the moon and filled to the brim with squeeing joy I am? It's becoming a routine to be packing up parcels in the evenings, a chore that I do with a gigantic smile upon my mush. The pleasure of this has dragged me from doom to relative happiness and is even making me not quite so sad that I'm not home painting or making things all day any more. My life balance is constantly tipping this way and that and I'm doing my best to hang on. I could use some No More Nails I reckon.
I've not got a whole lot more to report today really. I'm just fresh from a delicious bath and about to dry my hair ready for a lovely early night. I'm looking forward to a day out with my honey on Saturday, when we shall have a trip to the art shop and a special lunch somewhere. I'll also be trying to squeeze some work time in of course, as well as my washing and ironing. Can this all be done in a day? Goodness me. Who knows?
There's this book writing thing in November. You write so many words per day and by the end of the month you have a novel, be it good, bad or indifferent. I'm considering having a crack at it. I definitely need a few more hours in my day, which would probably mean moving to a planet with a different set of logistics than my current one. I'd give that a go too if it were feasable, but alas, I doubt my Ford Fiesta would get me there.