I have referred to myself as “A Realist from Quaintsville”, but most of the time I am more of a realist from Realville, because Tulare County isn’t really all that quaint. Really.

This definition means not living in a dreamworld, a place of what-if, maybe and perhaps. This sounds like “What if I put more time into it, maybe I can fix this oil painting, perhaps it will sell. . . ”

The bald truth about this lantern oil painting is that I don’t like any of these things: working on it, trying to see detail that is ambiguous, and attempting to make paintbrushes behave like pencils. More time probably won’t fix anything, make me like it, or cause it to sell, because it has been in a time-out for 7 months, and none of these things have changed.

I’m 58 and I don’t have to finish this if I don’t want. So there.

Sometimes it is good to just act on a decision instead of waiting to be sure. I’m sure I don’t want to paint this, because I’ve been waiting to work on it for 7 months, hoping I might be able to turn it into an appealing painting.

Reality is that I like painting pomegranates, can actually see the detail, know how to paint them, and know they will sell.

The business of art requires frequent reality checks, and remembering to live in Realville rather than Maybeland.

I’d really enjoy drawing the lanterns, but am not convinced that this would be a good use of my time. Pencil drawings are my strongest artwork, but the reality is that oil paintings sell better.

Realville is where I live.