I got back to work again today after four days without painting.

I hate to be away from my work. When I'm compelled by necessity (or exhaustion) to leave off I can't wait to get back. I miss my studio's pool of quiet light; I'm haunted by unfinished thoughts. In bed at night I see just which subtle stroke would make my budding picture bloom; in dreams my fingers close around a brush. But sadly, inevitably, when I do return nothing is as I imagined it would be: there is awkwardness. I can't quite concentrate; I can't get comfortable. I start and stop and wipe out, get a cup of tea, take a nap, and feel dissatisfied. If I'm lucky, at the very end of the day the magic finally happens. With the last wisp of light I make the connection and the energy flows. From me to my work or the other way around? I don't know, but I find the link again and am happy - which is to say I'm miserable in the usual delightful way.

Today I worked on the head on the left - again. I've posted before and after pictures here. This time I was trying to correct the size of it, make it a little larger. Tom suggested moving the right eye up and out a bit and pointed out that the bottom of the head seemed fine: it was the top that was too small. I did that and it was miraculous: without changing the outline the head appeared larger. Note to my fellow artists: if something seems too small, try changing the width, not the length. This is essentially what I did.

Eventually the light died and I was forced to abandon ship. Initially I was pleased with what I did, but now I'm not so sure. The size is fine, but I don't know if I'm happy with the expression. I can't keep painting this one head over and over for the rest of my life - or can I ?