Con anxiety dreams last night. I’ve got WTHCon this coming weekend in Greensboro, the last local con I do. (Honestly, since I started doing book signings and whatnot, I don’t miss the local cons much–the local con money is usually negligable and this way I get to sleep in my own bed at night. But WTHCon is usually a lot of fun, and I’m doing a schtick on Saturday about how not to get published (which may include some useful advice on how TO get published, I hope.)
Still, the anxiety dreams don’t make much sense, since in them I was panicking over having only eight paintings for the art show, and there isn’t an art show at WTH. And then the sprinklers came on. So, uh…yeah. Standard con anxiety. (Also there was a weird quasi-lesbian bit with another artist, to which Kevin said, in a desperate attempt at nonchalance, "Soooo….which other artist was it?" Alas for him and his fantasies, it was one that doesn’t exist. She made interesting jewelry, though. I remember silver animals with that interesting wave pattern you get from forging an old file.)
I’ll be glad when this one’s over. Then I get three months to just work on Dragonbreath, and as much as I bitch and moan about the art demands therein, there’s a comfort in knowing exactly what you need to do in any given day. I have to do two Dragonbreath illos a day. That’s a lot, sure, but it’s also…well, once I’m done, I’m done. I have done all that is expected for the day, I don’t need to be working on other things in order to Not Be A Slacker, nobody requires anything of me except those two illos a day (and Digger, of course) and anything I achieve over the top of those is just gravy.
I like the fact that the artist’s life is constantly changing and the work is always different and I can take days off at random and afternoon naps and sometimes I’m at cons and sometimes I’m in the studio and all…but I also occasionally like a patch of structured workmanlike days when I don’t have to be worried about whether I’m doing enough.