Tonight for the first time in a very long time instead of going to the gym or vegging out in front of another episode of CSI, I dragged out the neglected remains of my painting kit. And no I don’t mean walls I mean acrylics and oils paintbrushes and a rather dinky canvas. It didn’t go very well my skills what they have diminished to are rather rusty with disuse and things took a darker cast than intended. The result is a rather disturbing little painting of a coffee cup…I think. Anyway I have entitled it “Espresso in Hell” as I think the vast quantities of caffeine imbibed today might have something to do with dusting off my paints. Whether or not I can remember any of my art lessons from school is rather debatable. Perhaps not even questionable but the important fact to me is I actually did something a small something but something creative in any event. Despite all the obstacles of a messy house screaming toddler, pottering husband, sink full of festering dishes, and a load of laundry that will probably end up left out on the line all night.
Who cares I’m on a happy high and hopefully done something to counter the atrophy of my creativity. Not only have I painted but I’m writing this so that’s two things painting and verbal diarrhoea, er um writing that’s what I meant, even if I’m the only one who reads this its still out there and it’s a start. Or this all could be something to do with the fact that turning 30 is looming over me and I am desperately trying to figure out who I am and find who I used to be besides wife and mother. Don’t get me wrong I love my family but being a stay at home mom sometimes lacks in feeling really alive and that I matter in the world, that I’m not just lurking in the shadows hiding behind being a busy homemaker.