Peace and quiet and fear

The boys left Sunday. Off to Itasca (4 hours NW) for their annual foray into the woods, where Dana teaches biology to incoming freshmen and Alexander has the time of his life playing with the peer mentors and the kids of other instructors. 
I always look forward to my two weeks of alone time but this year it is different because I really am alone: there's no Cupid by my side. I'm pretty sure that Cupid relished her alone time with me just as much.
It's always a time of mid-year resolutions for me. I started my two weeks well, with a trip to the gym and resisting the urge to run to the store to buy more yummy flavored creamer for my coffee. I need to get back to using 1% milk.
I am resolving (again) to rid myself of the fear that infects my life.
A big one is my fear of making art. My poor muse, always being ignored. This fear stems from my issues with perfectionism, which I've dealt with since I was 6 or younger--not wanting to make 'mistakes', the fear of failure, and not being accepting of myself.
For someone with a background in research, where did all the thrill of experimentation go?

But as soon as I finish this blog post, I am setting myself up on the living room floor with a much-too-large assortment of red- and white-tones of acrylic paints and working on a memorial collage about a friend's therapy dog.  My reward will be to dive into a book by Beryl Taylor which I have wanted for a long time and recently received. Her work is so incredibly detailed; she uses fabric and paper and beads and embroidery to create amazing quilted fiber art. Every time you look at one of her creations, you notice something new. Her work is so inspiring, but for now I'd better start smaller although I did make a piece of her fabric paper the other day.