This morning, the day stretched gloriously before me: nine pristine studio hours untarnished by appointments or laundry or errands or yoga or cooking or cleaning or phone calls or anything. I had big plans to interrupt my painting only to make French knots, and interrupt my French knots only to resume painting. Less than two hours into my mission, though, a phone call from the daycare quashed my big plans. My daughter was sent home with a stomach bug. My day was drastically altered from my original vision, but at least the bug was short-lived and—although I did not get to spend the day in the studio—at least I did not spend the day cleaning up bodily fluids. Instead, there were books and snacks and walks to see the ducks. Now, tomorrow holds all the hopes and dreams put off from today.

Day Fifty-Four: High Hopes for Tomorrow | 2014 | Uncategorized