Maybe it's because I'm feeling a little overwhelmed.
Maybe it's because it's too late at night to be blogging when I should be sleeping (but then when would I blog at all)?
But I just chatted with my sister a minute or two on Facebook, while simultaneously exchanging comments on her status with my best friend who lives in Germany. One conversation about about the diplomas and certificates we've earned, and how we're not much for hanging them on a vanity wall. The other was partly about children's clothing and coloring pages.
I've had some real nostalgia lately for the days when I could color and really enjoy it.
For many years, I kept the Winnie the Pooh coloring book I had in college. One of the first bonding-type events we did on my freshman hall was to have a coloring contest. We all thought it was silly, and we all really enjoyed it. My picture, more than 2 decades ago, was of Snufflupagus (no clue how to spell that one) and Baby Alice from Sesame Street.
Not long ago, in an urge to pursue creative things, I bought some high-class art markers, and some blank ATCs, and meant to practice a little drawing, which I am terrible at. I produced one good drawing and one sort of geometric doodle.
Earlier this week, though, I had the urge to color something complicated. I think part of the charm for me is that coloring is at once engaging and relatively mindless...and that maybe there's a place of prayer there that I'm missing. I've downloaded a couple of simple Celtic mandalas to practice on...I can't make up my mind to try Sesame Street again, but something in me longs for simpler times. I'll let you know how it goes.