nearly nine months into my one-a-day project, i've been thinking a lot about the finish line, my light at the end of the tunnel. its one hundred and five days away, and i can't wait. in some ways, painting has become such a routine, one of those automatic chores i do every day whether i want to or not, like making food or brushing my teeth. but still, the project has been rigorous and unrelenting. sure, many transformative things have happened for me in the past two-hundred-sixty day span. i've certainly learned a lot about myself in the process. but i'm ready to stop, and try something else. i'm ready to immerse my new skills in a style of work that takes more time and patience than just a single day. will i miss my project? maybe. will i feel a certain emptiness, or lack of purpose? i don't know. but right now, in this moment, i feel a bit like a long haul trucker driving that white line through the black of night, still a lonestar state away from her destination.