Tonight was my last night of painting. I cleared my space at the studio/kitchen table and washed out my brushes and packed everything up. I needed to take pictures of some paintings and did that. Afterwards, I was sitting there are was so, so, so sad. I feel as if I have severed an appendage of who I am. I have literally painted majority of the day for 43 days straight. When you spend that much time with something, it is hard to say goodbye. Although it is not goodbye to painting, it is goodbye to a lifestyle, where painting is the priority, not only the priority but the only thing on the days agenda. I have been so incredibly lucky to be able to have this opportunity to indulge in creating like this. I am not sure if it is because I am losing this lifestyle or that I am afraid I will never get it back. In 3 days I return home, which I am so incredibly excited to be home, but so fearful of losing that relationship with my painting. Life will hit me from all directions and I am ready for that, but it's going to be hard to not wake, make a cup of coffee and just paint. I will admit to being spoiled in this regard, but I know if there is a will, there is a way!