If procrastination was an Olympic sport I would get the gold every four years and every year in between. Say, for example, I have two months to finish something, I always wait until the day before to start. Granted, it does get finished (most of the time) and the huge rush of relief and satisfaction when I’ve accomplished it is overwhelming and gratifying. If I didn’t know better I would swear there’s a part of my brain that enjoys the rush.
It’s Never Too Late to Start
I have recently come into the world of oil painting. After a life long desire, I started lessons for my 48th birthday with the amazing artist, Jeremy Doss. Jeremy Doss Art His words were, and I quote, “If I can teach a pigeon-toed man to dance, I can teach you to paint.” And he did. To which I will be eternally grateful. I’m telling you right now if you ever have an opportunity to attend one of his workshops run, don’t walk to the nearest one.
What does this have to do with procrastination, you say? Well, I love oil painting. It satisfies something in me that photography never quite accomplished.
I belong to a great Plein Aire group of men and women called the Tuesday Painters, because we, well, paint every Tuesday. When you live in East Tennessee you will run of days before you run out of places to paint. But when I sit down in front of that giant, mind-searingly white sheet of canvas, my brain shuts down like a frightened turtle.
I can suddenly think of a thousand things that need to be done instead. Must have more reference photos, must organize my space, must find a snack, bathroom or anything else to postpone the inevitable. When I finally get down to the business of painting, some of the others are starting their second. Yes, Kathie Odom, I’m talking about you. (side note: If you could design a beautiful, amazingly talented, wonderfully spiritual human being, her name would be Kathie Odom.)
I do eventually start painting and have a fantastic time but the ritual never changes.
Art Cards Originals and Editions
Enter ACEOs, an artist’s version of trading cards. It combines the fun of trading Baseball Cards with the artwork of Magic Cards. These tiny (2 1/2 inch by 3 1/2 inch) bite-size morsels of painty goodness bring me joy and happiness. I think of a topic, and boom I can pop out 3 in an afternoon. The process of painting is exactly the same, just in miniature. All of the paint and paraphernalia are confined to a 4-foot square tabletop on a sunny porch. Instead of gargantuan sheets of canvas taunting me with their whiteness and blankness, rectangles the size of playing cards greet me. Did I mention how much fun they are to paint? In other words, I don’t hem and haw. Suddenly the refrigerator doesn’t need cleaning. I just sit down and paint. Then I paint some more.
I think I will start some now, as a matter of fact. Or maybe this afternoon. Definitely before bedtime.