I need to man up

Do you see a shared theme in these two photographs?

Today, as God is my witness, I'm re-saddling the Horse with No Name and striking out for oblivion.  I'm gonna put some paint on the Goddamn Astronaut if it kills me.  I'm just gonna scrawl and spurt and smush and put my fingers in my mouth so the toxic pigment doesn't penetrate the skin of my fingers and poison me.

As God is my Witness.

It should also be noted that there is a direct correlation between the general state of my painting table and the general state of my mind.  So, looking at the top photo you can perhaps sense that I'm troubled.

This too shall pass.  But if we, as the collective known as The Year of Magical Painting, acknowledge that living in fear of this Goddamn Astronaut isn't helping, then one part of the solution is as plain as the hand on the end of our leg.

Then, Goddamn It, I'm gonna apply myself to one or more Kickstarter initiatives designed to get me to Cyprus and Greece with a painting of Angela Merkel.  Which, to be honest, is what's really bothering me.