To me, painting is often quite a challenge. I start out with enthusiasm, soon I free-fall into self doubt. This morning I was wondering if I should just chop this to pieces and do something else. But I cannot take the elevator, I have to walk all the stairs, slowly building up, adding layers of paint. I feel miserable, paint with a grim look on my face. But I still love it, absolutely! Because all of a sudden I can see some glimmer of hope. It may vanish into yet more despair, but why should it be simple? Now, don’t judge this piece yet. I have much more work to do, but I am sharing the process of risking failure…