Day 0393

The first thing I did this morning was listen to some poetry. I realise that I have been thirsting for some well-wrought words after suffering through hours and hours of Ayn Rand's laboured vernacular, where everything is 'superlative' or 'insolent' and where everyone 'laughs silently'.

Took a walk around the frosty fields, enjoyed hearing the skylarks. Researched competitors for an app idea that will not make me any money and yet I allow to occupy my thoughts and take up my time. Imperceptible four hours of painting absorbed by the day.

The process and not the product is important in my art. The process bends my mind away from the bottomless terror of existential dread, and instead gives me gratifyingly trivial real-world miseries to grapple with.