After a long time, paint on my fingers.
I have always been a reader, never without the essence of another story running in parallel with my own. Except for a few months in the immediate past where I just couldn’t. I don’t know why. And I have never felt so disconnected with my self. So adrift and empty. But thankfully, this phase has passed and I have been reading voraciously again. Shirley by Charlotte Bronte, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Journal of a solitude by May Sarton, My cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier, just to name a few. It feels insanely good. So much so that I have devoted every spare moment to reading thus neglecting my painting. But that, too, has passed and I could paint again yesterday. Yippee!! So, here’s to getting back into the groove! To painting, reading, creating, to immersing oneself in the little things.
Here’s to feeling connected!