I grew up as a Cubs fan so I know all about the June Swoon. It’s something my father would say with a sigh as we watched the Cubbies chalk up another loss. Just when we thought they were on their way, in came the slump. My own June Swoon actually started in May, and I’m still trying to weasel out of its grasp.
This is my writing desk, newly painted. I figured since I haven’t been using it, it’d be a fine time to repaint it.
I realized, that when I had spent more time at the desk peeling the old paint off of it, than writing, it was time to take a break. The paint-peeling worked as a distraction from the glaring blank screen, but then the ugly desk became a distraction from the writing (at least, that’s what I told myself). I could talk about how peeling the layers of paint was like peeling back the layers of a scene or a character, or blah, blah, blah, but really, sometimes peeling paint is just that: peeling paint. It was also a sign that I need to step away for a little while. So that’s what I’ve done.
Yesterday, as I got caught up with some podcasts, I scraped, sanded, and painted. And it felt good. It’s still in the garage with its new-desk smell and will eventually be hauled back upstairs. I’ll let it sit pretty for a little while as I work on peeling back my own layers and seeing what’s underneath. (Sorry, I had to do it.)
And it all started with a killer sunset . . .