Anyone who has checked in on this blog even occasionally has got to be as sick of this hair embroidery as I am. Started 124 days ago, it was initially exciting for me, but there were many hours that were put in in the hopes that this piece might someday be something, that it might cross that line, transcend. The "art moments" (when I was "connected" with the piece, saw clearly where it needed to go, felt confident that it was going to work) were fleeting, I glimpsed them only occasionally, and the rest of the time I just worked, with a faith that the "magic" would kick in at some point, and it would be successful.
I suspect that this feeling is reason why many people become artists in the first place.... it can be addictive. I envy those who have a short process, who get to experience the feeling on a more regular basis: this envy often makes me want to do some other kind of work, something with more immediate gratification.
Today will likely be the day that I work until this piece is "finished". In my language, that means that I will work until there is nothing more that I could do to it to make it stronger. I will collapse in exhaustion, possibly waking up with a migraine tomorrow. (I am putting ibuprofens on my nightstand now to remember to take them prophylactically.) Tomorrow, when I wake with a fresh eye, I might make a few minute adjustments, but it will likely be photographed tomorrow, freeing me to concentrate on the new painting, and the hair embroidery mailing that has been stalled, waiting for this piece to be finished.
But today is magic, and every stitch that I make seems to activate the image, adding the subtlety that is going to take the piece over the edge. Pure joy.