Today is a Wash Right up to its Painted Edges

Oh no! Is that the weight of the other being moving to the edge of bed? Fog-filled blinking tells me it is so – and is it daylight? How did that happen? My day is a wash right up to its painted edges. I am done for! Grasping for my glasses on the windowsill, I leap, hobble and half-run and then stumble past the surprised being still sitting slumped on his side of our shared nightly nest.

“Hey!” He bellows. “I was up first.” But I am already up the four steps and rounding the last corner of the curved hallway to the second most important room in our dwelling.

“No matter” I silently grumble and push the lock into place on the bathroom door. Mine first.

Returning to the kitchen the mighty he is thinking about putting the water on for coffee. I swoop in grabbing the kettle just as his fingers are about to curl around the handle. I don’t look his way. In fact, I pretend that he has vanished into the mist. Filling the kettle I slide or possibly slam it back onto the stove.

I lament “I hate it when you get up at the same time as me. It ruins my whole day!”

To his credit, this other being knows when to retreat. He also knows when not to take things too personally. He grins and goes to his study until I give the “all clear” call. My coffee is in the thermos and I am existing past the counter. It is not really okay to brush my shoulder on your way by yet but I won’t bite as you pass.

We both know it is not his fault that I have slept until the leisurely hour of 9:00 am. We both know that it was not his idea to book a solo exhibit, design a catalog to go with it and plan a three-week trip to California and returning only two weeks before the show opens. Nope. This ill-conceived planning debacle belongs to me – the artist who has no problem imagining what is possible beyond our wildest dreams.  So help me, do my rational, conservative, though underdeveloped, personality traits have no spine at all? Don’t they know we are in this together? If one part of us is set adrift – well there goes the rest of us – castaway with the next high tide and headed for The Great Pacific Trash Vortex. And the Creative Potager blog post isn’t even written!!!! It all sucks! The whole thing sucks! For tree frogs and garden worms I have no idea how to float this boat back to my west coast shore!

Okay-okay, let’s calm down and do it by the trusted “to do list” review. It isn’t really completely a loss – yet! The twenty-two paintings for the exhibit are all done. There are only two more to set up to paint their edges like the three that I just finished.

Today is a wash right up to its painted edges - artist's lament by Terrill Welch 2015_02_10 011

If we don’t think about the fact that these last two will require an extension in the to the kitchen table and leave us eating off the coffee table, it isn’t really all that bad. The postcard announcements are printed.

West Coast Landscape as Home

The venue menu at Camassia Cafe for opening night April 4th is set. The posters and local ads have been contracted out and are on schedule. The catalog is 80% complete – even though we all know that the last 20% takes 80% of the time.

If only he had slept in later than me! If only I had those three extra hours I usual have in the morning. If only I had a separate much larger studio space so there was room for my assistant to work and me at the same time. If only my mother was a fairy godmother and I had inherited her wand. Sigh.

Welcome to my artist’s morning. Now back to work….

What is your first strategy to escape bobbing in the water of unreasonable blame when panic sets in?


© 2015 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to

6 thoughts on “Today is a Wash Right up to its Painted Edges

  1. I was never one to handle panic or adversity very well, but with age, comes a mellowing. I’d like to think I now handle such unenviable situations with some application of sense and reason, devoid of the purely emotional reaction.

    I can actually feel that West Coast landscape!

    • Good to know Sam in regards to feeling that west coast landscape – this is exactly what I was striving for in return to the viewer! I am glad to hear that age mellows our juvenile response to panic – there is hope for me yet 🙂

  2. Well, um, substitute writing for painting and you kinda have me in a nutshell. Add a few: my yoga instructor told me to take regular breaks so that I can still walk, but she can fix me when I’m broken — she’s done it before, she can do it again. Yup, sometimes we set unrealistic goals. Sometimes we fly madly off in all directions. Sometimes… But we always come back down to earth. Good luck, Terrill. Sending you supportive rays of sunlight. : )

    • And there those rays are – right outside the studio window Leanne. It truly is so close to coming together – just a couple of more good pushes and I will have the solo exhibit in hand and on the path towards a successful opening. At some point in every large project I feel this undeniable panic. The intention is doable – just challenging. Thanks for stopping by my friend and offering encouragement.

  3. Terrill — I know you didn’t find it one bit funny, but your telling of it tickled my funny bone and I had to laugh. Out loud!

    You asked, “What is your first strategy to escape bobbing in the water of unreasonable blame when panic sets in?”

    Oh Lordy, I’m just awful. I strike with both verbal fists; sort of a one-two punch, and then regret my callousness later. Thankfully Len is the forgiving sort. I think he’s learned (over the past 35 years) to tune me out when I get a bundle in my undies!

    • Thank heavens Laurie for those that know and love us! No I wasn’t finding this morning particularly funny but it might be by tomorrow morning. Distance seems to help and I had a good solid productive day – “even with a bundle in my undies.”

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