"Don't make eye contact" I tell myself, but it's hard, it's a rhinoceros and it's in my kitchen.
I make coffee in the mornings, glance over, acknowledge it, then find ways of procrastinating. More coffee, breakfast, snacks, bite of lunch, dinner, I wander past it head in the air, down to the basement to clean the cat litter.
It's been there for a week.
I mean, I painted it, began painting it 3 weeks ago, my treat, a break from the boredom of painting other peoples children, part of a series of paintings that would include octopii (octopus, there will be more than 1 painting of an octopus, is it plural - 1 per painting, several paintings?), whales, tasmanian tigers and unicorns.But I was stuck on the rhino.
The Octopus, it was coming along, I could forgive it, the first few slaps of paint on the canvas, lots of detail, it looks crummy now but it's a big project, it will take a while....
The rhino, though, it was looking good. An orange-red background, dollops of yellow, turqouise, pale blue. The rhino itself a solid black. It was coming along, but something was missing....
And so I experimented, tried a crackle medium to see what it would do, added to the composition a beach ball with the intent of balancing it, appeasing it, and he's sat there ever since.
Now he's on my easel, he's tough to ignore, it's been a week since I've touched brush to canvas and I have to get on with it. There are many, many more interesting things to paint and he's so close to being done but ...
He's surly, staring me down. I spot the countless little flaws, minor, easy to fix and I'll get to them later. After my coffee, my meal, my book, and I know once I pour the paint on the palette that I'll be committed, I'll fix him up and I can move on, but at the moment he has me paralyzed.
The girl, she's coming along, she as well watches me, she's done, the under painting at least, and she looks good and it's time to put oil on the palette and begin painting her and I stall on this, I want to have a few under-paintings done before beginning with the oils, and I have the fear that she'll go the way of the rhino, that things there too will begin to fall apart.
I look around for ways to procrastinate, there are loads, there's cleaning to be done, cats to be fed, dishes, I haven't even unpacked the office, the car's back and I should run to the thrift shop, the Restore, unpack a box in the basement, sell something on Craigslist or Kijiji, the rhino, he's patient, he'll wait but I'm running out of time....
Today, I tell myself. There's a rhinoceros in the kitchen and I'll deal with him today.