As a writer, I am forced to be nostalgic.
One thing that I miss is something that I didn’t know I could ever miss:
Crayons. Paper. Drawing.
I miss being able to make that kind of home in paper and color. I miss drawing. I miss picking the colors out and allowing my hand to become more of the creative vessel my mind was.
I miss the blues, and reds and sunny yellows. I miss drawing and coloring and creating a world of my own within the world spinning around me. I miss the promises held by a stack of paper.
I miss transforming blank paper.
I miss the process of creating.
I miss that creativity and that space it gave.
Writing is wondrous and altogether fabulous. But drawing? Sigh.
I loved it.
I could create…and not a have to say a word.
[image from dirtythirty.co.uk]
