I am feeling that crack in the Foundation and the rain is making it larger. Such rain keeps coming. The ground is saturated, slugs and snails are eating their way through my garden. My soul pines to paint but the weather defeats me. I crave warm sunny days. My painting situation craves warm, sunny, and dry situations. Silks do not dry in this moisture because of the baking soda in them and my cabin studio has little light and no electricity. Am I letting this get me down? Such little problems in the scope of the world's turmoil. I am feeling some disappointment, I must admit. I thought I had sold a large and important silk hanging. I had been to the client's home and established the hanging in its place, but left without a check as she had not gotten one from her husband. Should I have noted this as a warning? I took the piece home to freshen, iron, and to wait for the table to be installed. Yesterday I heard, via email, that she had placed her table and the painting and thought the room didn't need the hanging. Okay, I can understand on some levels. The hanging is very powerful visually and would draw attention from the painting and the table, but still I had been so pleased that the hanging had found a home, a place to be enjoyed, where it could shine and be admired. Instead it remains rolled, 44x90 inches of silk dyed and expressive, but hidden still. What is the hardest part about not having this sale go through? That I am not able to spread my work out into the world? That I can not "let go" of this piece for lack of a place for it to live? The name of the piece is "Letting Go" and it was made for the exhibit of hangings which showed at Vermont Supreme Court in 2006 and it was a feeling of "letting go" in the making, but "letting go" of the work proves harder than I had thought. Ah, sometimes, it is good to let out the words, now I must move on.