![IMG_2570.jpg](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5827c5d1ff7c5065482d2855/1590063704538-ZIWMZTC6CV34MGUVT9YF/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kDHPSfPanjkWqhH6pl6g5ph7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0mwONMR1ELp49Lyc52iWr5dNb1QJw9casjKdtTg1_-y4jz4ptJBmI9gQmbjSQnNGng/IMG_2570.jpg)
the truth is I can’t keep up.
I don’t know how I use to paint every night when the toddler was a baby. maybe it was just excitement but lately, I can really go ages without picking up a paintbrush. I am sort of relieved that it is not an obsession anymore and also perplexed. I wonder if I am relapsing or maybe it is just that super focus was good for that time in my life. now, things are becoming so different and I just want to give myself a break.
I don’t think I have kept up with anything like I have my painting practice… my creative practice.
there is a part of me that feels very dependent on art(painting, mostly) for feeling good and I wonder if I stop what that would feel like.
would it just be swept up into another hobby?
I have made about a zillion art journals lately ( and put every little art in them)but instead, I found myself scrapping/scraptherapy or writing…
I keep having to remind myself that I have not abandoned my practice.
I have not abandoned myself.
I am very much here.
it just looks different.
this is okay.
I keep having to keep my hands moving.
things are evolving.
these new/old things…
this is my art, too.