You know how they say to really know yourself – your gifts, temperament, personality and all that – you just need to look at the kind of child you were. That is who you really are … your authentic self. You’re not really this adult person you’ve grown to become. You change as you grow up – no prizes for guessing why. I look at the kind of things I used to love to do back when I was a kid and one of them was drawing. I loved sketching and painting and making things with my hands. It’s been ages since I’ve done anything like that. The last time I picked up a pencil to sketch was 14 years ago. Which was when I drew this Chinese girl …
… this really stiff-looking horse that has, for reasons I cannot remember, no eyeballs …
… and, for some bizarre reason, Oprah Winfrey (without the extra poundage and for some other bizarre reason, with white hair).
I was skulking around this arts and crafts store the other day and was struck by how excited I became all of a sudden … looking at the canvases, the tubes of paint, the brushes … it got me thinking again. Maybe it’s time to attempt a resurrection of the inner artist I’d shoved aside for 15 years. You know, dredge her up, slap her around a bit and see if she’s still got any life left in her. She might. I certainly hope so … I’d hate to see her dead forever. Besides, drawing will give me something to do when I’m old, senile and retired.
