First of all, to be able to wander aisles stocked with paper, and brushes, and tubes of paint, and just touch all of the bristles, and paper stock was something I never get to do. I am never alone. Ever. If I take a minute of two to indulge in something like that, I usually end up ticked off because Charlotte is begging for something, Olivia has to pee, or the baby is whining. Every time, I leave reluctantly, always promising myself that I will come back alone, yet I never do.
Well, last night was my night. And wander and take my time I did! It was so inspirational. I can't even explain how desperately I have been yearning to paint. I don't have the money to do it, or the space. I really want to use oil paints, which stink, so I could never get away with doing it in my tiny house. The lovely smell of linseed oil, and the stink of turpentine would probably make us high constantly. Not to mention the mess. Yet, I have this overwhelming need to do it. I have been thinking about it day and night.
Maybe when the weather gets a bit warmer, and I can set up on the back deck. I saw an easel that was only $14.99 and the store always offers 50% off coupons. I would love to go and get one. And then, slowly amass some paints. And brushes.
I looked at canvases, and recalled days in art studios, stretching and nailing canvases together. Sitting on paint stained concrete floors, with the smell and breeze of the ocean, blowing in. Seems so long ago. It was actually. A lifetime.
I had so much time then. Hours and hours of it. Now, time goes in increments, passing from one chore to the next, dotted with meals for others, and daily errands. Why can't I be that carefree girl anymore. I know she is very much in me. I feel her trying so hard to come out. And really, all of these self imposed rules, and regimentation, just seems plain silly.
Because if I try and squash my need to do all of these things inside of me, in the name of lack of space and time, I will regret it for the rest of my days.
To live in a manner that I feel I am supposed to, rather, in a way that would feel so much more natural, and be so rewarding and joy filled, seems like the better option.