Just feelings in your body. Not who you are.
I've taken to sleeping downstairs.
On the Davenport, in my grandma's words.
I've accomplished more in the last 2 hours than I have in 2 weeks.
Tarot calls me The Fool today. "Spread your wings and fly."
I didn't know how to draw when I took my first college art class. I started painting before I could walk. Acrylic and oils.
And my instructor was great, he knew he would experience this in an intro to painting class. He gave us ways to project images on canvas and other hacks to get us to the painting part with little stress.
And I loved oils! So so much.
I haven't had a studio space I could ventilate to use oils since I left college.
I never liked drawing. It's my habit, I'd rather jump in like I already know the basics and do the important stuff. It's worked out for me in a lot of ways, but I'm not sure it did artistically.
During my divorce, I decided to draw something every day. Just do something, anything. Small, possible. And over the last 7 years that's what I've done, draw draw draw.
I started painting again a few years ago. Watercolors of all things. Something foreign to me.
When I moved this spring, my mom bought me oil paints. I cried.
Not everything past is lost.
Maybe I needed those 7 years of a drawing "detour" to learn how to walk.
Now the question is, will I remember how to paint again?
Mischievous adult children.
It's in a child's nature to take take take.
You'll never be made whole from such an excursion.