What a frustrating morning I had while working on this never-ending painting. Who’s fault is that, though? Well, mine, of course. I don’t know when to stop!

I mistakenly thought that if I left it alone for a while, then the last few applications of paint would be dry. But no. Not quite. However, I was too impatient and started working on more of it anyway. All that did was force me to ruin areas I was trying to fix. I ruined them again and again, over and over, repeatedly getting paint all over my hands, smearing paint into other parts of the painting, and going through half a dozen disinfectant wipes. Overall, I was just pissing myself off.

If that’s not frustrating enough, today, for whatever reason, my tremor is out of control. I’m shaking like I have freyed nerves and Parkinson’s. I get occasional whacky movements that fling my paintbrush into another part of the picture with no rhyme or reason. It’s like a bad dream.

After cleaning up mess after mess, (and how I hate messes) I was finally able to finish the guy on the donkey. I don’t know how I managed to finish him after the morning I had, but I’m not touching this thing again until it’s completely dry.