I finished.

Two days ago, I didn't think I would. And I cried and cried.

But I thought through my approach, made up a game plan, took a three-hour nap, then got to work.

And I finished. And it looks pretty good.

I had an interview this morning. I think it went all right. They seemed to like my stuff (my portfolio, not my paintings. Those will be assessed separately, by a blind jury.)

It's hard to tell, really.

Their faces fell when I mentioned I have a baby.

Oh, did I say I have a baby? I meant a dog. I have a dog.

Then they told me about how demanding the schedule can be sometimes, working in theatre.

Yes, well. Did you look at that resume you're holding? I've been working in theatre for eighteen years. More if you count pre-college stuff. I'm aware of the demanding schedule. Thanks, though.

I did not say any of this, fortunately. Even though I hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time for three days. While also having a baby. Amazing, huh?

But it's done. I handed over my work, with two projects I fully stand behind and one that is passable (the middle one-- turns out it's hard to jump right back into painting at a large scale, with time constraints, when I haven't done it in years. It sucks to have to turn in my learning curve, but ah well. The third one was good. And I finished it in less than half the time of the second one.)

I turned in my projects. They're theirs now. And now all I can do is wait.

So I feel somewhat relieved, in that I got all this work done, especially, since it really didn't seem possible that I would just a few days ago. But I don't get to thoroughly relax, because now they're deliberating, and I won't know how I did for some time.

But it's out of my hands. For good and for bad.

The tough part is that if I don't get in, I won't know if it's because I did a really crap verion of faux marble for their delectation, or if it's because I whiffed the interview, or if it's simply because they only need so many new members and I don't make the cut.

But I made my way back to the subway, at which point the juice that had gotten me to my appointment and seen me through my interview drained. I sat down on the train and passed into a coma. Miraculously, I woke up just in time to make my transfer, and then again to get off the train and stumble home.

I tried to sit on the couch to talk to J and spend a little time with my boy-o, but I passed out again. A few hours later, I woke up with cramps from the weird position I was in, and I made it to my bed, at which point I collapsed until midnight.

My hips hurt, from hours of sitting Indian-style to paint the last project. My back is sore. My eyes are dry. And my house is beyond messy.

Large-scale paintings, a husband working from home, and a five-month old baby, all in a New York one-bedroom... Yeah. It looks... I'll let you picture it.

But. I finished. Did I mention I finished? Yeah.

And just over two years ago, I was going to make this attempt, and I never got this far. Life and sickness intervened.

So. I accomplished something I've wanted to do for years. And even if it never goes any further than this, well. Look at my life.

A husband, working from home. And a baby. A beautiful baby boy, who likes to watch me paint. Seriously. J would set him up in his bouncy chair, and Sprog would be entertained for hours, intently watching my process.

So much better than a dog, you guys.

Comments

[jayne]

Good for you, roo! And yes, so much better than a dog.

[Kathi]

Yay for you and getting projects done! And, how nice that the boy likes to watch you paint. That's an easy way to entertain and hopefully you'll instill some love for art into him.

[Mayberry]

Oh, good luck! It's so wonderful that you finished. I hope the powers that be appreciate your talent.

[tracey]

Gorgeous work, roo. So excited for you!