Painting vs. other stuff that's not as much fun

I've been getting more painting done this week, to the exclusion of other things which don't seem to do themselves.... No, no, must stop painting and do the dishes/do the laundry/eat/etc. It's weird, I get on a roll, and just want to keep painting.

The creative mind is a funny thing. Some days, boom, it's there. The ideas are flowing. Images go from my head to the canvas, and it seems that the brush is just a conduit, moving as if on its own. I remember reading a quote by van Gogh which makes mention of this very thing, how at times the brush will seem to move of its own volition. He also said that at other times, ("lean times" I believe he called them) the artist would be staring at a blank canvas, waiting for ideas to come. Of course, it's a little scary to think I have something in common with a man who eventually cut off his own ear. If he were alive today, he'd be put on meds, and we'd see him on talk shows discussing something horrible about his childhood.

Ahh, enough rambling. This is what happens if I get on here to post before I've had enough tea.

Time for more tea. Earl gray. Hot. :)

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