This week, my husband is off to spend some time in spiritual retreat. It’s also one of those rare weeks where we don’t have a publication to produce, and therefore pretty quiet on that front, so I have decided that in between getting the kids to and from school, packing lunches, washing uniforms and all the other routine activities, I would schedule in some ‘fun’ time for myself.
If you read this post, you will understand why I have decided to make one of those activities painting. I was given an extra nudge by a friend who hinted at maybe having a canvas from me for a very belated birthday present. So, she will get her wish (if it turns out okay!) and I now have a great reason to lose myself in the wonderful therapy that is contained in my paints.
My easel is an old artwork desk that is a leftover from my father’s printing business, I think, and I have used it for years. It has been in two pieces in our garage, and, as you can imagine, was literally covered in dust and cobwebs and abandoned wasps nets.
I set to, cleaning it up, hammering in some nails that were loose, shooing away the daddy long legs and sweeping away their webs. As I did, I felt a cleaning going on inside too.
I was not only physically preparing for the creative in me to have expression, but metaphorically too. I could feel that little muse waking up, stretching her arms out and blinking as the sunlight streamed through the newly cleaned window. Something in me was stirring as I ran through colour combinations in my head, felt the plump tubes of paint in my hand and retrieved blank canvasses from deep within the wardrobe.
After getting it all organised, I stood back and sighed with satisfaction and relief; anticipation coursing through me.
I can’t wait.
The only problem I can see is forgetting to go pick up the kids after school. Oh and cook tea. And wash uniforms. And pack lunches.
Mmmm, maybe I’ll go on the retreat next time! And I’ll be taking my paints and canvasses with me 😉