Sluttish work ethic

I would love to show you pictures of what I accomplished this weekend, but I didn’t take any of myself as I socialized, sat in the shade reading a book, and drank endless cups of tea. 

Work done?  Very, very little.

Now I feel guilty about my sluttish work ethic, and so I am going into the studio to finish the fabulous chocolate diamond ring I started last night in a fit of remorse.  Angels will sing when this ring is done, because it is that awesome.  But most importantly, I will be able to retroactively justify my sluttish weekend work ethic as necessary artistic think-time.


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