Biting my tongue which lightly touches my lips,
I sit, concentrating, paintbrush in hand.
My faces skews up to almost a scowl,
really, it isn’t pretty to see.
The strokes do not come easy,
uncertainty clouds my mind, shakes my fingers.
I don’t know why I get this way,
I look around at the other pottery painters,
they laugh, talking with their friends.
For me however, I need tunnel vision,
I need to focus on what I do.
Art, this art, makes me walk away from my work,
makes me look elsewhere, but it is hard.
I see my perfectionist trying to come out.
Don’t color outside the lines!
Did I get the right paints?
Will this turn out good enough to give?
Straighten up that painted edge,
careful, careful, CAREFUL!
I know, if I’d just relax, let go a little,
it will turn out better than how I’m doing now.
I put the piece down, then rinse the brush.
I pause, and I breathe. I relax my face,
unclench my jaw and realize I’ve bit my tongue.
I accept where I am, and move on.
The piece was really done, do any more
and I’ll really mess it up. STOP.