Final day of glazing Meals of Warm Spring. An exhausting day; awake most of the night with crushing stomach pain which persisted for much of the day. I was unable to eat until 1pm and focusing was difficult. Work started at 9:30, but continued as planned.
The idea is perfect, then each human entropic act chips away at that perfection. The aim is to preserve it, or enhance informational content, as life does, wrestling to push upwards to heaven while falling down to an inevitable chaos; thus art replicates, not mere imitates, life. All novels and symphonies ultimately document the author's struggle to complete the work. At the end of every painting I have the sinking feeling of only failures. The work is done, it cannot now be better. I see only the flaws and must careful analyse each one, and calculate how to best repair each one next time, identify each possible route to the best outcome.
I'm now exhausted. Tomorrow I'll finalise my games, document this artwork and work on a full procedural breakdown for painting, and work on the jobs which have been on hold since Saturday.
