When Your Muse Has the Blues

I had planned to take time off from blogging for a while -- a nice relaxing summer with a few exhibits, then a week at the beach and back at it mid-September.  I am back at it but my usual effervescence is pretty much gone flat.

We had a visitor in Florida a few weeks ago named Irma.  And while most of you in the FL/GA region are sick of Irma by now, I have to say that she still is sneaking around my head most days.

Her presence actually started way before she came over my home.  A solid week of preparation was the preamble to her dancing her way into our hearts.  As I worked with my husband boarding up windows, prepping gas cans, filling receptacles with water, getting the generator ready I found myself shaking at times.  They say we never get hurricanes in the Orlando area.  I have been through at least 5.  And each time I take off my art from the walls, secure my painting supplies I wonder about whether I will have damage not only to my home but to the vocation that sustains me and gives me joy.  And I wonder if it is worth even continuing with my art. Taking photos of the exterior of my home and its inventory in the event I needed to file a claim excluded the 40-plus paintings stacked high off the floor and the other approximate 100 in my portfolios. I maintain an inventory on a spread sheet but an inventory is merely a formality when you loose 25+ years of solid creative output.

A week of prep, one night of Irma, and many days without power.  It seemed like a month rather than 2 weeks.  We were blessed with no damage except a solid pruning of trees by Irma and a slightly leaning fence.  Living without power for 9 days was a challenge and you develop a routine of making gas runs at 4 a.m,  refilling the generator every 6 hours,  and going outside for air and light at regular intervals.  Cooking consisted of cold ravioli some days and constant visits to the local grocer for fresh food.  Art was the furthest thing from my mind as I dashed in and out of cold showers each day.  But it was manageable and certainly not the hardship so many others have faced with the storms this year.

Life is somewhat back to normal -- things are washed, cleaned, put back.  Windows sparkle, towels are fluffy clean and Netflix is there all the time.  Debris continues to pile up (35 trash bags and more to go)  but the birds are back at the feeder.  The AC is humming.  Showers are warm and invite lingering.  My paintings are slowly getting hung back on the wall.  But the routine of painting each day is a struggle, especially when sleep still does not come easily.  The paints, brushes, paper and canvas wait patiently for me.  Not too sure I miss them just yet.  Is it worth it?  There is only one way to find out -- just keep doing it.

You can see my work, and a list of recent exhibits at my web site:
Krys Pettit Artist