Onto other things. I'm going to paint my computer room, the room where I store the bulk of my art supplies, reams of paper, rocks, etc., etc. I've spent my weekend moving most of it into other rooms for the duration. Moving some of this stuff brought up emotions, memories, dust, and dog hair. I swear I'll move out of the house before painting this room again! Today, I'm moving onto spackling water damage from a previously faulty gutter. I watched a nice Australian man's video about how to do it. I wish he were here to do it for me.
Maybe you get lots of positive reinforcement. Betty showing off my work made me face that I've gotten a lot of negatives. Art can be a competitive, brutal business. You often get lots of criticism and revisions, and "good job!" is seldom in the vocabulary.
I spend my days with data at work. The ladies in my dept know I've worked as an illustrator, but the other people didn't. I liked it that way, maybe because I've spent so much of my life identifying myself first and foremost as an artist. It was/is so much of how I think of myself, it's nice to be known for other traits -- or maybe I just didn't want to deal with more criticism and suggestions?
I went home that day feeling mighty pleased with myself. People stopped me in the hall to say they were impressed. I've been waiting a long time to be able to show this magazine and it felt good to be praised for it. I felt a flicker of life and hope inside. They especially liked the parts that I spent stupid amounts of time doing. (They loved my forks!) Joy, joy, joy and I started to remember I really like getting this kind of feedback. It motivated me to go into art for a living.