Here I sit in limbo. I'm back in my studio surrounded by stacks of finished paintings and half finished pieces that are also in limbo, forgotten still life set-ups I could never make interesting and a pile of junk that has slowly accumulated all summer because there was no place else for it to go.

This happens every year. At some point my steady creative output stops. Usually it coincides with summer and the kids getting out of school. That long relished break from schedules and committments turns into something else. I always have good intentions, I am going to keep a sketchbook or something like that but I usually end up literally closing the door (the studio door) on that part of my life.

Then every year about the end of August I feel crazy and totally off center. It is always comes out of the blue and is always a mystery to me. I can't wait for school to start again so I can have time alone to think. The excitement of May and June quickly turns into the despair and depression of late August.

It happens every year and yet I somehow forget. Then it dawns on me, just like its the first time - "Oh! Its the work! Life is not dramatic and melancholy. It's just time to get back to work - back to creating." Then relief sets in, creative plans are made, hope is restored! I'll ease back into my art the same way I'll ease back into exercise and healthy eating! (LOL)

Life has seasons. Nature knows this and takes its break in winter. Somehow, I always forget this important cycle and I am hard on myself. Not only plants but people and ideas need time to take root too.

Just like the rose awakens in March and pushes out its green tendrils, I am waking up after summer. I'm getting ready to put out some tendrils of my own and dreaming of blossoms to come. Now, instead of depression I am excited for this new season!

What do you look forward to in fall? Football? Cooler weather? Do you have new things starting that have been put off all summer too? Let me know by responding to this blog.

Thanks for reading!
Talk to you later,
Beth