How come it takes most of Thursday to make it downstairs and do art?
And then it is so enlightening and enjoyable!
Even the things that start out ugly end up having a certain beauty. It frustrates me how I avoid making art, and yet the act of doing it leaves me in awe every time that the creative process can be so mesmerizing and peaceful and revealing. I can't help thinking that my relationship to art-making mirrors my relationship to most things. Being hesitant to dive in because of the potential beauty that exists at the bottom? Or the potential mess I suppose.
Regardless, this day is looking up.
And I will take a photo and post it later of what I created today.
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