Inspiration is overrated

So, Art got up, he has to make a new painting for his next exhibition...in fact he needs to make 5!

It all started so great, being invited for this great exhibition in Chelsea, the current walhalla of art in the West of New York.
And when they asked how many art works he would want to have in the show, he enthusiastically said '6 should be fine'...
That was around 6 months ago...
And here he stood, in front of a plain white canvas...with lowest energy ever...
He was angry...but angry for what...and angry on who?
- for the shining white canvas that looked at him, giving him way too many options
- for the loads of ideas he has, but of which none seem really to inspire him now
- for the bloody gallery that kept sending mails, reminders, checks etc, pushing his creativity in their structure...bastards
- for himself basically being way too optimistic
- on his incontinence not being able to keep his mouth shut when being enthusiastic
- AND his ego that just took over for 5 seconds
- for linear time, that passed by so quickly...bloody Einstein saying time is relevant...what a bullsh*t!
- for inspiration that always evaporates when time pressure increases
- for all the distractions and his inability to resist and focus...

Yes, quite an impressive list of things and people to blame...and of course deep down he knew that it was basically himself that was the root cause of all this...but he did not want to hear now, he just wanted to be grumpy.

And he knows the theories about inspiration and the key guidelines:
- find a clear direction for your art works, where you want to go
- limit yourself, just take 2 colours and 1 subject
- and start the journey, exploring and adjusting, each time refining your art work
But he felt already too tired to even select 2 colours...

So, what to do?
He actually felt like taking a nice beer, maybe the alcohol would free him...well, he knows that alcohol does not help the quality of the work...
Or just throwing some paint on the canvas and go 'Pollock'...
Well, he was sure he would find something, and he know he would in the end be on time, but he also know it would be last minute intense stress and no sleep for a few nights

While thinking of all this he started walking to the drawer where he kept his paints, he sighed...slowly preparing the canvas...and a smile came on his face...why did he somehow always have to go through this phase...?
Anyway, inspiration is highly overrated..!