Hours Gone but Not Lost

One down, I'm not sure how many more to go. I think there are ten or twelve. I'm working on the illustrations for a children's book. I decided to try this myself. Why not? I've surprised myself in other arenas lately.

Researching the paper, selecting the paints and brushes was fun. I wasn't completely lost, but it's outside my normal realm of daily activity, so it was interesting and just scientific enough to fool me into thinking I was using parts of my brain that are used to getting a workout. Then I sat down at my kitchen table last night with my supplies spread out before me. Oh!My!God! What the hell was I thinking?

I zenned those thoughts away from me, gave them a nudge with the psychic back of my hand and simply started. I painted many, many rosebuds...some soft, some bright. Then I had it. One large free form flower with a single leaf. I'm not even sure if an adult would call it a rosebud. But I think a child will believe it when he or she sees it. And that is what I want. I want a child to believe it.

What I believe after spending time with those rosebuds is that time can become suspended in the pursuit of art. I've experienced it with writing, and with music, and now with this lovely thing called "belief in oneself while one paints".