Hotel Art??

So you be the judge - does my tree qualify as hotel art?  Do I even care?  Because after painting, repainting and repainting yet again 95 friggin' leaves this SOB is going on my wall above the couch.  I had suggested I may take a photo of the hideous 80's art it will be replacing, but I just can't bring myself to do it.  I will share other intimate details of my life with y'all, but to show you what has been hanging on my wall for the past 7 years is way too embarrassing. So I just have to run out and buy protective clear coverage gunk to spray over it - thanks to pal Traci I know where to go and what to buy.

And I have to be honest about the design of this piece - it is not mine. There's a surprise.  The idea for the background border came from Pier 1 (couldn't afford the $400 they wanted for their painting) and the tree is taken from Stampin' Up of all places from their vinyl wall art designs.  I just have to keep practicing and playing and believing that my own style will one day emerge.  I have faith it will.  I think that must come with confidence - something I'm in short supply of at the moment.  When I have the courage to be me in my work then my style will come out. And I don't understand why I can't visually do that since I'm pretty much able to do that in my writing?  I write like I talk.  My voice comes through my writing why can't it come through my art? Is my art my writing?  

So I've just messed up my blasted mascara from a crying fit I just had.  Why am I so neurotic about creating art? I hate that word right now - ART. What the hell is it anyway and why do I not feel entitled to even use the word in regards to myself?  Why am I such a freakin' mess this morning?  Where are all these feelings coming from? It's like a bunch of sea gulls hovering over my head taking turns to dive bomb down on me.  Cheeky bastards just keep coming at me. Anyway, if you see a flustered woman walking around mumbling to herself and swatting at the air, that will be me - just cross to the other side of the street and say a pray of thanksgiving that it's not you - because you and I both know that it could be....