The clayboard is causing a time warp.

There are things I should be working on. My normal method, when I want to paint, but need to get things done, is to alternate–lay a wash on the paintings, run in, work on the digital commissioned work stuff until the wash dries, run back, lay another wash, play with paint for a few minutes, run back to the digital.

I thought I was doing this, but mysteriously, over an hour seems to be passing each time I go into the studio to noodle around with the clayboard.

On the other hand, I have figured out how to make rocks that impress even me, and I would have sworn that I was as jaded to painted rocks as it’s physically possible to be without being dead.

But that’s how it catches me. I go in and look at my rocks, and think “Great rocks!” and then I see a spot that could be even better, and I grope for a paintbrush, and suddenly it’s two thirty and my lunch is cold.

I think I have a problem. And yet…still, no remorse. Remorse may come when I have to stay up all night finishing noblemen for the next Conan RPG expansion, but right now…nothin’.

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