Art Buffet indigestion

I flit; two weeks ago I was obsessed with showing movement using charcoal, getting lost in the tones between light and dark, line and smudge. Now it's the photorealism of coloured pencil on drafting film and using a blade to scrape tiny highlights.

I'm waiting for the days to warm up so  can get back into the shed and smell the warm beeswax and resin again and chase all my encaustic dreams.

I'm in danger of not having a unique thing - have I not found it yet? I feel like an amorphous shape-shifter making a buffet of art when I should be developing my signature dish.

Maybe I'm still not brave enough to make the pictures in my head? Do I need to be able to confidently and competently express what I can see before I can draw what  I only see in my head?

And it photorealism really art? What do I want to convey with a close up detailed drawing of a bird's head? The rich beautiful detail in the familiar, the overlooked ordinary; the way we put our heads down and strive for what we are told to strive for when in so many ways, we have already arrived and just need to open our eyes.

I've finished the first two in a series of A5 coloured pencil close ups of UK birds I'm planning. I'd like to make enough that I can get sets of cards printed and sell them online. Maybe enough for a calendar but do people still bother with calendars these days?