I started painting somewhat regularly this year. It’s a struggle. I’m working my way through making shitty paintings until they’re…well, less shitty. I’ve thrown away more than a few and frequently resist the urge to fling them across the room.
I’m not going to say it’s getting easier, but the routine is getting more comfortable. There are moments, sitting at night in the corner of the basement listening to music, where my brain quiets down and I enjoy the process.