My secret hiding place to go as a grown-up is my driveway. When no one is around I open a Blue Moon and grab the bucket of Crayola chalk from the garage and find a special spot on the sidewalk or driveway. There I dump the chalk out of the bucket, take a swig, and begin to go into my creative zone. Typically, I’ll bring up Pinterest and start searching for something to draw.
I have inherited a small amount of artistic talent from my mother. Though, she is much better than I but like her, can replicate what I see by drawing/sketching/painting/ect…but that’s as far as I can go. I don’t find much satisfaction when I freehand.
As I start comparing lines and choosing colors for my drawing, I go into a space of my soul that is like a dewy meadow at sunrise. Things start moving and waking up and there is a peacefulness that comes over me. The peacefulness fades into happiness and sunrays begin beam from my soul. I am finally without anxiety, guilt, or pressure. I just draw. I draw until I am no longer able to deposit any more creativity onto the concrete. I let it all spill out there until I am bone dry. The addiction to create has been filled. At least, for a little while.
This gives me a little break from everything. If I screw it up, it doesn’t matter to anyone and the rain will come sooner than later and wash it away. Then I have a clean canvas to try again. If it’s a piece I’m especially fond of, I remind myself to soak it in while I can.
Lastly, but equally, my kids love it. They ask me to draw different things for them all the time. I have drawn everything from our dog to a favorite cartoon character, to farm animals, ect. Inevitably when I am done, they help by adding to the piece via rogue strokes. It’s a win-win.
Tired Not Dead 