painting is as painting does

I haven't painted for awhile, been writing on my play, the show in LA, cracked ribs, the flu, a cold and lingering cough has kept me away from the studio, and how ironic, what i've wanted is happening, galleries are beckoning, there's a new atlanta gallery. the studio dark and quiet lays await, she knows i've been gone and she knows there's no days off from creating, most of the times you've got to clean yourself with dirty water, that's a blues man's saying that painting doesn't come easy, it never has, and never will. for every one good painting i've done i've destroyed 2 or 3 or 4. i forget that, the pain of nothing happening , yet you must face it, the possibility of all that time spent and being left with a big mess, but there's no excuses, no perfect day, tired or not, nicked up, lazy, don't want to, i'd rather do this, no way, you've got to serve your talent, wait too long, it can all go away you;ve got to be alone to do the masterworks, you've got to put your time in and time in and time in. john coltrane played every day, heroin addiction or not and you've got to and you've got to paint like it's your last gig. today i ended up with that brown mess and the same feeling that goes with it, the same question, will i ever do anything good again, will i be able to paint? and as much as it hurts to answer that question, i'll be back out there. it's what we do.jgk