There are few things in life that are more soothing to me than coloring.
Coloring. Markers, crayons, colored pencils, chalk. Anything.
And so I have decided to write about it, for the sake of writing about it –
and it’ll all be in organized little lines, like my poems or prose pieces.
In the turmoil that surrounds this week, the impending decisions
and the plans for the future that somehow seem so immediate
my mind becomes entrapped in a whirlwind of thought and
I find it almost impossible to truly relax and find peace within.
I’ve found a way of reaching stillness, of tapping into creativity
immersing myself in bright colors and lines, focusing.
Focusing on the paper in front of me and choosing the right combinations
to complete the tiny masterpiece that will be displayed proudly on the fridge.
A quick thought about it, this will be a short piece –
am I finding peace because of my inability to focus on anything else,
because I am blocking out the distracting noise that can torment one
(if one isn’t careful, that is)?
Or is it the drawing itself, the process of choosing colors and the
immediate joy of seeing my emotions splayed on the page
with the viewer able to interpret it as he or she will
and how it so reminds me of my writing – imagery instead of content.
