Sunday afternoon/evening. Myra is sleeping, Sam is snoozing on the couch. And the creative urges I have been sitting on, keeping them locked down, need to break free. I need to paint and draw and write, I feel like I won't feel settled today unless I do. I started creative writing Friday night, and like always, once I open the door a little, everything creative wants to come out.

I don't know why sometimes I feel afraid of being creative. It soothes me, it makes me happy. It makes me feel...good. Alive. And yet, I sit on it a lot. I'm trying to work on that.





With Sam asleep, I figured it would be a good time to start playing. He didn't bother me while I was drawing a tree with hot pink flowers that is everywhere down here, or when I was drawing my favorite foot bridge that I see on my way to work every day.

But Sam is apparently a painter. He had to help, check out my paints, see how I was mixing colors.





I haven't picked up paints in a very long time. I decided it was more important to play and put colors to paper instead of worrying it's not good. I think that is part of why I don't paint much. I love it, but I don't really know how to do it, or I don't know how to do it the way other people do. But just playing with colors, blending white into my swirly blues and greens, trying to make my heart have wings, it felt really good. So I guess I shouldn't worry about not doing it right.






It says: Let your soul and spirit fly free.

Painting, drawing and writing seem to do that for me.

Hrm. The painting is actually much more vibrant, and the photos in iphoto look brighter and richer. Not sure why they seem flatter on the blog.