I waited a day too long--when I'd finally dragged out the easel, I had to arrange these fellas to hide the spots where they were starting to turn. We sliced 'em up later that night and had a bite.
I wondered as I nibbled and wiped peach juice from my chin... would I enjoy painting as much if it were my vocation instead of avocation? What if I suddenly had to do it every day? Is the mere act of accepting compensation for an activity sufficient to strip the activity of its joy?
I still enjoy blogging/writing. But if I had to do it? For pay?
Thoughts?
