When I left a 25 year corporate career I made a list of things I wanted to do now that I had some time on my hands. One of the things was travel, and I’ve been happily crossing that one off my list, though the list of places to travel never gets shorter, does it?
One other was “get back to making art”, so I marched myself to the art store and bought some paints and oil pastels and paper and such. I went to the fabric store and got myself some patterns. I bought one of those adult coloring books for inspiration.
But then, to make a long story short (which may become a short story actually), I decided and discovered that for now, writing is my art. I don’t yet say that I’m a “writer”, and really this maybe isn’t art either, so let’s say it’s my creative outlet, or a way to manage the monkey running marathons in my head. I hope you enjoy the ravings, the rantings, and the reminiscing.
[Update: Recently a nudge from a very old friend got me to take out those art supplies and start playing with color. Something will come of that, I just don’t know what. Yet.]