I spent the day trying to rise above a fog of medically prescribed Xanax. First thing was hopeful- a vision of vultures flying over the neighbors roof. Actually very surreal and beautiful. And I collected swirls of moss on a walk. Until my arms started itching. But by the time I found time to paint I was either just going on or coming off of the meds. It didn't help. Everything was a clumpy mess. I had to go for drastic measures...run the painting under the sink, scrape off whole sections, and then...admit I can't do it. I have to go to bed. My 77th painting is a dud. Truly, I say to you- never mind the Muse, for today I barely showed up.
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