rules for tight rope walking and art

A flurry of art has been dispersed through my hands this last week.
I find myself picking paint chips from my fingers while I talk on the phone.
The skin is dry and never quite clean.
I have been circulating through my painting pants, the ones I wore in college.
They have swipes of red, black, and green from my palette knife across the thighs.
There are no words for this state of mind.
Everything is immediate and I loose track of time...of children.
Yesterday Beckam fell into his forehead on the cement floor, after which a golf ball tried to burst through his skin.
My response was, "Where did these kids come from...oh yeah...they're mine...and one of them is hurt."
I extricated myself from the tight rope I was so intently walking and stepped onto solid ground.
Into the real world where children need their mother's warm voice.
I cooed softly at his ear, and cradled his thick body into my painted jeans.
"Maahhhmm....I bonked my head off!...." he wailed.
But I know he is gonna be okay.
I let him trickle off to the next injury, take a deep breath and step back onto the tight rope.

Philippe Petit walking the tight rope between Twin Towers 1974

I watched a documentary once, about a man who walked a tight rope between the Twin Towers in New York City.
An animated French man who wore tight black clothes and spoke with his whole body.
If he fell from that height - over 1,300 feet - there would be no question.
But he wasn't on the ground where his death waited.  He was in the immediate space of the cable upon which his feet were poised like a dancer's.

Philippe Petit lying on the cable between the Twin Towers in NYC

I gaped at the screen where I watched him lie down on the wire and rest easy right in the middle of it. I knew it was real, but didn't know how.  How could a human allow such a thing to happen?  There can be no holding back, no hesitation for such magic to occur.
This is how it feels to paint.
Granted, I will not die if I loose focus, but the state of mind, I imagine, is the same.
I stand back from art that I have made, I know I made it, but I don't know exactly how it happened.
There are basic rules...breath,...always breath...
       - start with big shapes and move to smaller shapes
         - value is more important than color - it decides everything
            - let the art be what it wants to be
               - fall in love with your work at every stage
                 - have fun...sometimes
                    - keep going until it's done.