Two weeks is not enough. One of my new friends goes home on Saturday. She planned this trip long ago. Though she loathes her job and her boss, she gave plenty of notice, studied the schoolbook cover to cover and dreamed of her arrival. Two weeks passed too quickly, and her departure is coming way too soon.
A few of us have encouraged her to phone her boss and inform him that the hate affair they are having is over! She will not be returning. Then she must call her man, and inform him that the love affair they’re having is about to get a whole lot better. She is now courageous, brave, vibrant, passionate, AND unemployed. He will soon learn that such a women is more desirable than a lady sucked dry by a man who belongs in the mailroom, licking stamps. She, one the other hand, should be running the company – or painting. Hopefully, she promotes herself to the lead painter position, sooner than later, as later is sometimes not soon enough.
I did not make it to the square today. It’s September. That means that Giovanni closes the bar on Wednesday’s, and with it goes the richness of the square. I’ve enlisted back up. Tomorrow we go to Florence to see art, but Friday we’ll all be in the square. They will have their cronies, and I will have mine; the mad, sketching, painting, arty types – all of us, a rage of creativity. I will fade into the group and emerge independently another day, but soon.
I still have 2 ½ weeks. I have no boss. I can see the difference in my work, and the path might surprise me. What I have discovered is that when I try to make it “right”, it’s not so much fun. When I am limited in time, and it doesn’t really matter – everything flows. My father may not agree. He would find the more well-tuned pictorial images more pleasing – unless he had to paint them.
I will keep doing what feels good, and see where it takes me…likely to many more fascinating places.