Nailed It

My Grandmother signed me up for art lessons when I was 10 years old. 

The constant pen to paper-napkin-scrap-wall-skin-anything doodling during my first decade of life, was perhaps alluding to some deeper prodigious talent churning within. 

perhaps.

By the time class #3 rolled around, I was over it. 

Too many rules and still-life fruit bowls. 

 I packed up my charcoals and pastels for another day. 

A day when something chained inside has to be set free, with depth and light and a few of those other silly rules. Maybe one or two.  Staying in the lines, or something.

...

That artist mentality is still going strong to this day,

scattered within the drawers of watercolors and chalk or

simply peeking through a colorful  Jackson Pollock smattering of nail polish. 

   {white, lavender, coral, and mint}

What is art looking like in your life these days?

xoxo

{Bon Bon}