Class dismissed

With certain possibilities for artmaking as 'downloading' taken less seriously in my current context, or at least strained at the tip of exposure, I feel lost in painterly practice, or in its total integration...lost in the things I can do with it, where to go, too many directions, unwilling to push further, unsure of how. To venture deep, to sustain physicality when not only taxed in time but concept, the principles of creation, where it comes from, for me, specifically, undermined at every turn by new flashes of ideation, and their ultimate fizzle into grave stolid anxious churning. Though this is quite common. One issue, the notion of producing something of consequence. Drop that, produce something for oneself. But the self of such a one demands consequence be a part of its formula, demands in the sense of emerging from a knowledge of, a baseline cognizance of what is entailed by introducing x or y variable, etc. The associative properties, imaging the associative mechanism without its content. Not wanting to image, at all. How to be smart (or smart enough) in my artwork. Is my artwork the place where I even want to be ‘smart’? Rather, the intelligence encases. The body instead conducts. I am missing streets, real, vivid streets, to walk through and take from.