I'm taking a painting class. Painting is good because words and numbers fall away. Normally, my day is full of specifics, amounts, statistics, particulars, it's nice to just be intuitive for a few hours. Painting allows me to quiet my obsession with accuracy and outcomes and all that humdrum office-type stuff.
It turns out there's a part of me that's been quiet for a long time. Normally, it is told to shut up while I'm busy doing administrative money-making work. When presented with paper and some paint it takes over. I was surprised that it has a lot to say, and is very upset about having been quiet for so long.
It's happened before, whenever I make myself do boring, meaningless work for too long. My soul has a mini-riot, it totally rebels, and I have to change my life to appease it. This is what led me to painting.
Friday, September 19, 2008
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