Last night, I painted for the fuck of it. I’ve had these art supplies from my short stint at design school, many of them practically unopened in years. They’ve just been sitting there.
I’ve always wanted to paint. I have this fantasy of making all this money and being rich enough to effectively ignore the world, shut myself in and just paint and break stuff and make stuff and explore. Last night, I thought, ‘fuck it, why not give myself that luxury for one night at least. No thoughts of the outside world, no worries of judgment, no stressing about deadlines. Just sit and feel and create.
And so I did. And it was nice.
Not everything has to have a reason. Not everything has to make sense. There is beauty and purpose in the absurd and meaningless. I think it helps us understand how ‘not in control’ we are, and how much there is that we don’t know.
There are things we feel compelled to create even though we don’t know why. There are things we really want to do that we don’t give ourselves permission to do…Talents and gifts left unexpressed. I think we should make time to do those things. If not for others, we can at least do it for ourselves. It is important, it is part of our human journey, it is part of discovering and creating our selves.