For my big post-finishing-a-Dragonbreath-book-painting (an outgrowth of the big post-finishing-a-Dragonbreath-book depression, during which I inevitably decide that I am a hack and a dreadful artist and cannot paint anything but cartoon dragons.) I came up with this:
I always have this crash. Kevin occasionally makes me German chocolate cake, which does seem to stave off some of the symptoms, but usually I need to do a painting just to prove that I can still paint.
I think it arises out of some weird conviction that I am dreadfully lazy. I point out to myself in vain that I am on the hook, between Dragonbreath and Digger, for 400+ illustrations a year, a punishing schedule by any standards, even without having to write two books as well. Whatever weird artistic guilt drives me is unimpressed by this. I should be doing brilliant mind-blowing art at the same time. If I didn’t read books or take naps or garden, I would have time for brilliant art. What is all this sleep crap? And going out to lunch with friends twice a week? That takes HOURS! And how much time do I spend going to the bathroom when I could keep a jar under the desk like a REAL artist? I could be painting! WHY AM I NOT PAINTING?
Someday I will find that center of my brain and beat it out with a tire iron.
In the meantime, however, paintings and cake.
