So, in case you had been wondering, I have actually been working on my painting right now. (“Which painting?” you ask. This one, n00b.) For some reason, a week ago, I got a silly idea in my head: “Carina, why don’t you go make a painting?” And here I am now.

It’s silly, because despite my bachelor’s degree and my “lineage,” I’m really not a very good art person, and I say this void of fake humility. No fishing, really. I’m a sort of… whatever-comes-to-me type of artist. No thinking or drafting or sketching. Until now, that is. I’ve been spending an average of three hours every day, trying to make this work, and over my despaired wailing, my parents and brother have been assuring me that that is what it is really supposed to look like at this stage.

So, what does Beatles Rockband have to do with this? Well, I am getting there. See, a couple of months ago, my brother purchased a limited edition Beatles Rockband set. I’m not really very good with video games, either, but as he is my brother and he was excited to play it, I relented and we played a few songs with my sister. Obviously, I had won the major suckage award, because I sucked, majorly. I would lower our rating so badly, I got the feeling that they would rather be a two-piece band (like The White Stripes, but an actual brother-sister band), but they just didn’t want to be mean.

The problem is that I kept on hitting the notes prematurely. I see a yellow beat, hit yellow early, and miss the opportunity. So, that’s what it has to do with painting, and life, in general, I guess. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, “Carina, that’s kind of pushing the metaphor, isn’t it?” But it’s really not.

That’s the problem with me. I mean, I’m decent at most of the things I try (except public speaking and arts of the performing persuasion), so when something goes my way, I would milk it and go with it, until it does a disservice to me. In which case, I will drop it. I like trying new things (rushing into them, really), and I keep getting these ideas, but I let them fizzle out. Like, taking that editorial assistant job. I went to work the day after I got the call. I quit exactly a month later. Things Like That.

The thing is, I think I need to really spend some time trying to learn how to make this… art thing work. Or, I guess, in the broader context, my entire life. Because I just can’t bank on what I have, and not try to be better. Because, the painting is not going to look like the picture, unless I spend time on it and be careful with it. Because my life is not going to go anywhere, if I don’t take the right opportunities, or wait until my timing is right. Because, I can’t keep on hitting the yellow beat, before I should.

(See, I told you it would get somewhere.)

Anyway, here is something like a time lapse of the work I have done today. I’ve been coloring outside the lines (accidentally), but my mother has assured me. “That’s OK,” she said. “You have about five more layers to go.”

And then I suffered an imaginary aneurysm and wrote this post.

I don’t know if this ties in with the whole “message of the post,” and frankly, I cannot be bothered to think it through, past midnight with a sinus infection, but in the words of The Album Leaf, poignantly: One Day, I’ll Be On Time.