well, I found out what I've been avoiding in the studio… when I really get down to the business of confronting stuff, going inside can be a truly awful experience. the easiest way to describe it (and I am not being metaphorical here) is that I am on the verge of violently retching for hours. given that I am someone who hates throwing up (so much that I have done so maybe 3 times since I was a kid with a stomach virus), this is not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon and is definitely not something anyone would ever want to witness. I would bet dollars to donuts that by the end of the week my hair will be shorter and a different color, sometimes a little acceptable self-mutilation is preferable to painting over absolutely everything.

on the bright side: it is better to be working than not, the hum from my new fixtures went away by the time I had finished blasting 2 cds worth of veruka salt and I had the foresight to bring all finished paintings out of the studio before I started work thus sparing them from being coated with the fine spray of red that landed on just about every exposed surface, including myself.