With

I have three projects waiting to be completed this week; I have yet to start any. I am almost kicking myself for missing a deadline earlier in the month. I have also forgotten to bring a ballpoint pen, let alone a pencil to draw with.

I've been relocated this week, living in two homes and trying to maintain balance. 

Sometimes it's easier to ignore and ferment, even though the healthier option is to embrace and love.

It rained and steam rose from the pavement.

I've set my research deep inside folds and I have too many canvases to love. Stuck on The Heist, stuck on WWII, stuck on. No more floundering, just forward movement, when. Set free, you say.

I can't decide to commit a year in advance, let alone a week in advance. I'm allergic, I say.

I will restart my five artworks. I have enough blank pages.