It happens at the midway point, or just over halfway, through every painting. I start having doubts. Painting at these times feels about how Rubens' Prometheus Bound at the Philly Museum looks. That is, the subject of the image, not the general awesomeness of Rubens.
I am over it though. I recovered this morning after a restful weekend and regained some momentum. I finished all of the jailbreak hands and some smoke. Mostly.