My painting time was cut short yesterday by the insensitivities of the art industry to neophytes. My husband said it was time to go to the airport, so I had to stop.
It was fun while it lasted though. The smell of my kids’ acrylic paint is like the smell of crayons. One whiff takes me back to simpler times, when my biggest worry was what my mother packed me for dessert (an apple? again?!). Obviously I have no artistic talent, but playing with the colors and the different brushstrokes was fun. I’ll definitely come back for more.
Today I am visiting family in Atlanta, so I’m not sure what my daily joy jolt will be. At the playground this morning, I joyfully slid down the slide until I discovered it wasn’t wide enough to accommodate my, ahem, curves. I wiggled my way through, but I prefer my joy with a little less reality check.
I’ll find something silly to do and tell y’all about it tomorrow.