I don't think there's any way to fix this mess -- the only thing to do is to begin again.
There's this interesting tidbit I've been turning around in my head recently. I wish I could say it was from an amazing book that I read, but the reality is a bit more embarrassing.
So actually, someone recommended a book to me and I haven't taken the three seconds to put it on hold at the Library. Okay, if I am to be completely honest, I haven't taken the three seconds to get my husband to put it on hold at the Library.
(I pretend like it's more efficient if I get him to reserve it, but we all know it's pure laziness.)
Anyways. It's called Breaking Points, and -so I've been told- it talks about how ten thousand hours seems to be a breaking point... how if a person spends ten thousand hours working at something, he or she crosses a threshold from being pretty good at that thing to having mastered it.
The book [apparently] cites the Beatles, how they had a regular all-night gig, and how putting in all that time forced them to be coming up with new material constantly because they couldn't just play the same five songs all night.
* * *
It got me to thinking. I want to be good at visual art. What, exactly, I'm not sure I could put into one knockout sentence.
I'm just learning. Which gives enormous freedom, because I don't have to turn this specific piece that I'm working on into my Magnum Opus-- I can relax and experiment a little, and if it doesn't turn out, so what? I'll be back at my easel tomorrow.
I notice just how intricate a hand is, and in getting it all wrong, it shows me what a miraculous thing the hand is, and gives me the spark to try again... to study the original until I can see where I went wrong (half the problem) and revel in the beauty of light and shadow wrapping around flesh.
My arithmetic is poor, so I sat on my patio steps in the sunshine for several minutes, counting on my fingers with a Neanderthal frown. And I think, at my current rate of study, when I am 49, I will have put in my 10,000 hours.
Wondrous news! Not to have earned a scrap of paper or the applause of The Public, but within myself-- imagine the satisfaction, the delight, of being able to convey beauty onto canvas!
Graspable. Just two hours a day.
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Now that I've written a heady post I had no business writing about a book I've never even read, the guilt's layered on pretty thick.
I think I'll get it out of the Library. Tomorrow.