Day 125
Every once in a while, I buy a couple of canvases for my children and I, and we organize an afternoon of painting. I have always loved to draw and paint. I remember, as a young adult, organizing painting evenings with my friends. Because I enjoy it so much, doing it with my children has never required much effort, to the contrary.
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| My latest creation |
I have always wanted to take lessons, but I never have. Obviously, because of a lack of time, I don't think I will be able to take some for a while. I don’t believe I have a special talent. I just enjoy filling up a blank canvas with colors that bring me joy. I’m sure, though, that if I mastered the technical aspects of drawing and painting, it would add to my pleasure.
Today, as my youngest daughter was feeling a little under the weather, I thought it would be the perfect day to take out the canvases and start creating. And so we did.
The final product is never as important to me as the process. When I start applying paint on my paintbrush, something magical happens. I get into some kind of trans, forgetting everything around me, focusing only on my creation.
I sometimes start, not knowing where I am going and then, through the process itself, an idea emerges. And when I see my idea turn into a visual reality, I get a deep sense of satisfaction. When it doesn’t, I try something else.
I always finish long after my children have gone and washed up. I’m not always happy with the result. And so not many of my paintings find their way to my apartment walls. But I always enjoy the meditative state I get into whenever I paint. And that is especially true when it happens on a cold Sunday afternoon.
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