Truth: everything’s for sale, and nothing’s for sale.
It just depends on what day it is, and which way the wind blows.
Take this painting, for example. It’s not finished yet. How I will finish it, I don’t know. I don’t know what it needs.
It goes with a story, and that’s not finished either. How I will finish it, I don’t know. I don’t know what that needs either.
Perhaps one day I’ll find some perfect music that makes my brain and heart collide, and that will help me finish them both.
Or perhaps one day someone will say something, some snatch of phrasing, that unlocks the last sentence and the final brushstroke.
Who knows? Not me.
It’s tiresome, I know. We must be patient.
In the meantime, sorry to everyone who wants this painting. It’s not for sale.
*I could, however do some more in the same vein, and I would definitely sell them to you (I think). Leave me a message if that appeals. But would it distract me from finishing this one?!