On January 3, I was suddenly seized with the desire to paint. It is a pursuit that has kept me entertained, absorbed, creatively engaged, and, frankly, joyful, since then. It is also something that I have really never pursued to this extent before. I mean ever.
On January 13, I was in the middle of doing this acrylic painting on a leftover roofing tile when I suddenly realized something that blew my mind:
For 10 days, I had been doing this wonderful thing I had really never done before. And the next day, January 14, was the 5th anniversary of my father's death.
He was an artist, and an art teacher. If it were at all possible to communicate with a loved one from beyond the grave, I truly believe this is the sweet, joyful, and loving way he might have chosen.
P.S. After the slate painting, I did the painting below just to use up the leftover paint in my paper plate:
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