We all like to finish things, done. check. Then along comes painting with its demands for searching, struggling, and failing – as the cost of entry. I'm starting to see that the 'time in the mud' is the payment for a joy unique to the act of painting. Maybe it's the extreme focus required that is good for my brain, or the mysterious divine gift of creative flow. Maybe it's the physicality of paint itself. Whatever IT is, painting as a verb keeps me at this, not finished paintings on a wall.