Well, I say 2 but that’s only from a blog point of view. My body clock has an internal alarm of it’s own. 4.45 was the wakeup call this morning. That happens a lot. The culprit is my mind….it’s up like an excitable toddler at the first break of dawn, with an expectancy that’s just simply annoying for others at quarter-to-would-you-get-back-into-that-bed-o’clock.
To shed some light on the impetuous mind, I’ve been beavering away in my studio working on a painting called ‘Jim’. It’s a gift for someone who’s just recently lost her husband. I donned the ubiquitous overalls yesterday, sat down at my easel and a deluge of highly focused, highly productive creativity washed me away for hours. At 5pm when my studio door knocked, I felt like I’d been defibrillator(ed) back into the real world. A huge gasp of air, a shock realisation of the time and I’m stuffing my bag with paints and brushes to take home, desperate not to lose the flow. The scene can be likened to something from Twister, the 1996 film featuring Helen Hunt, whose mission is that of storm chasing. The intensity, focus and commitment it so profound, even her life is endangered. Folks, I risked possible death, running down stairs, across roads, dodging tractors and elderly folk driving erratically, all in the name of chasing that creative storm. It was harnessed once again, my Jim painting propped up against the slope of my velux window (I have low ceilings) and away I go, whoosh!
There’s an excitement caught beneath my rib cage this morning, either that or a chest infection, but I feel a stirring which will just have to settle slightly as I head off to work. Those overalls won’t know what’s hit them at 6pm today.