I'm doing swell

I was reviewing some of the earlier posts on these ladies, thinking about starting a blog (err.. a while ago) and what it means, perhaps the daily practice of something.. and how I struggle with the idea of daily. I recently reread Gerhard Richter's The Daily Practice of Painting and I'm still no closer to the ideal of daily-ness as a painter, except in terms of frivolity. These almost silly little drawings keep me moving. I'm making a pile of Marilyn Monroes right now, and I think the girls keep my hands moving, keep me from being overwhelmed by detail and miniature. And also overwhelmed by the idea of the death of painting, in whatever form I choose to encounter it. I think I choose labor as an end run around the death of analog-making question, but again, most of it is just failure of the hand stuff. I love the way these things are rough and how that somehow bolsters a sense of nostalgia even when I'm most concerned with appropriation and color.