I stole the title for this post from Steven Pressfield's book The War of Art. I love this little book. I can pick it up, open a random page, and find something to get me back on track laughing at myself.
Right now I could be fairly miserable if I wanted to be. Here's why.
It started about a month ago when I was visiting with a gallery director. She wanted to put up a new abstract show for March and needed several new paintings. This gave me the opportunity to go back into the studio and develop my Ancient Walls series, from which I had been sidetracked for several months -- actually maybe a year, now. I felt energized. Jazzed. Back in the studio again....can't you just hear those words being sung by the cowboy troubadour, to the tune of back in the saddle again? Yeah, I know, now that's going to stick in all of your brains for the next few days and I'll get tons of emails...sorry.
The only place I have to store these rather large paintings is..yep, that's right, the guest bathroom.
It gets worse. Now I have two 40 x 30 canvases, and my daughter and son-in-law have just phoned to say they'll be down for a visit this upcoming weekend. Plus, I've purchased a 40 x 60 inch canvas because the gallery director had specifically requested LARGE.

It's so large it doesn't quite fit on my easel horizontally. The perils of having an inadequate studio, I suppose. But...I'm still jazzed.
And then I get the phone call. The gallery is closing. End of the month. No March venue.
So right now I could be pretty miserable. I just used up two perfectly good canvases, spent $100 on another gigantor canvas that already has the first layers of texture on it so I can't take it back, I have to go pick up all those landscapes and fit them in my car, and I just lost another gallery representation.
But I'm not miserable.
Because there's nothing I would rather do than paint.
So what if these paintings won't hang in March? They're great paintings, the best I've done in this genre so far. The process excites me again, I want to do more, see how far I can take this and then see where that goes.
Mesa Series: Seeds in the Sky as Stars @sue Favinger Smith 2008
Mesa Series: Greeting the Sun @ Sue Favinger Smith 2008
But most importantly, I'm not miserable because I discovered what my work is really about.
It's about taking chances. I like living on the edge between chaos and cultivation, where passion and excitement exist in life. I like trusting my own voice and following a curious heart.
And I like -- I really, really like -- taking chances.