I love blank paper, new notebooks, sharp pencils, and fun decorative pens. I love a fresh box of colorful crayons, arrays of markers, and children's coloring books. I love paintbrushes, and blank canvases, and the smell of an art room.
This morning, as I jotted a quote down on a clean, blank notebook page....my heart felt happy. There is something about making a mark on a blank page. My fingertips get tingly, my brain swells with ideas.
Most of the time, true complete creations don't ever actually make it out of me onto a page, or canvas. Maybe there is a fear there, that whatever I am imagining won't come out the way I want it to. So, I feel paralyzed to begin.....
BUT- I think about it sometimes. The possibilities, the creations, just dormant deep within me.
I once considered majoring in art in college. In elementary, middle, and high school, my art classes were my favorite time of my day. My H.S. art teacher encouraged me, and said I had great potential. The talent was there.....I just needed to learn to "let go", and express it.
I was afraid to try....not really finding MY style. I took the "safe" road. Drawing faces and things I could see in a picture, next to me. Pencil drawings...even adding color scared me. Maybe, I'd ruin what I had done so far.
It is interesting, though....because I still feel it within me. This urge to fill a blank page. To make a mark.
I am still hunting for the "right" medium, and the way to use and develop this "talent", this love of paper and pens. There has got to be something.......that fits.
Someday, I may discover what that right fit is.
Until then...I will consider the possibilities. :0)