Life imitating Art imitating Life

There's a poster in the bathroom of the physical therapy center where I do pilates.  It shows an extremely muscular and fit -- and quite elderly -- woman in a snakeskin-patterned swimsuit lifting weights , and the caption reads "Growing old is not for sissies."

Well, I'm here to tell you: painting is not for sissies, either.  Whatever it is you're dealing with, it's going to come out on that canvas.  And if you're going through a rough time, chances are your painting process will prove equally rocky.  Or at least -- that's how this painting has been working.

I painted the first two layers in class on Saturday, and got to deal with my need to please, my performance anxiety, my willingness to go against my heart to get approval, my competitiveness, my fear, my need for order, my shame and insecurity, my trouble staying grounded, my lack of drawing skills -- and that was just over the course of a couple of hours.  Since then I've spent time every day either staring at this thing or painting over it or both and still: however much I long to create something whole and organic, what I'm getting instead is something busy and compartmentalized. 

Sounds like life...