painting.

I remember being very small, sitting at our old dining room table, sunlight streaming in, birds visiting the feeder outside the window, and drawing rainbows with thick, defined stripes and blue skies at the top of my paper and sunshines in the left hand corner. Years have past since then, but I still paint. This time I sit at my worn desk, with everything from a metronome to pencils to a jar filled with shells and beach glass on its water stained surface, as rain drizzles down outside and Caedmon's Call fills my room with their music.

I don't paint rainbows as much anymore, my skies have migrated down to fill the page, and my sunshines don't make an actual appearance very often. but I still love it. I love seeing something in my head and then seeing it on paper. I love seeing it come together before my eyes. I love creating. I love beautiful.