Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

So today, we have clouds, rain, and frustration.  I am pretty sure that neither led to the other, but they all feel about the same.  I won't be able to change the weather much any time soon.  But.  Frustration, that's another story.

I qualify frustration as an attitude we put on unwittingly.  You're working along, or trying to, and all of a sudden, there it is.  Frustration--hanging on you, trying to hold you back.  And quite often succeeding.

Do you want the whole sad scenario?  It's computer related, so brace yourself.  I love change, except when it comes in the form of a desk top beast.  My husband brought a new-used critter home from the office "lottery" (!).  All was going pretty well, until it was time to burn a CD.  Said desk top beast houses Windows XP, supposedly mentally equipped with the brain cells to do CD burning all on it's own, no extra software needed.  And possibly it can, but we'll likely never know, because for some reason, it can't see the disc when it slides in the little door. 

Now maybe I am an overly visual person, but it's pretty hard to miss a 5 or 6 inch disc sliding into a machine, right?  "Please insert a blank recordable CD" it says.  I have tried everything I know how to do, and still, it's NOT WORKING.   Aaargh.  The frustration.

And guess what?  The frustration, it was hanging on my shoulders as I moved from the office to the studio.  And guess what else?  The painting that was a problem at the close of yesterday's painting session did not like the frustration either.  Go figure!  It quickly became apparent the frustration was going to hide the solution for that painting from me today.

But guess what else?  I caught myself.  Yay for me.  I saw the frustration for what it was, actually what it was doing, especially to a day's worth of studio time.  So what can you do with a boat load of frustration, to keep it from capsizing your day?  I love the phrase "always the student" and frustrating times call for students to review their lessons.  Pull 'em all out and give them a re-run.

1.  Wall leaners--take the problem child off the easel, it needs to go stand in the corner.  Beating it to pieces with the paint brush is not likely to help, at least not today.

2.  Change it up size-wise.  After a 40 inch canvas, a cute little 12 inch canvas is a walk in the park.

3.  Give yourself the sermon.  I can do this, I've done it before, and it'll happen again.  Just stick with it.  Emphasis:  stick with it, as in DO NOT quit.

4.  Take off you glasses so you have to stand way back from the easel, make full use of that long handled brush  :)

5.  Play.  Details are overrated.

6.  Make an extra pot of coffee.  (oh yeah, that's just my treat for job well done :)  )

Results?  Fun on the small canvas.  Maybe a photo tomorrow?  And the frustration? Not only did  it NOT lay waste a whole studio day, but I talked it into the corner far enough that I think I can brashly take the aforementioned desk top beast to the computer doctor tomorrow and say "fix this sucker!"  Um, please?

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper