Sometimes I get restless.

Last Sunday night about 11 pm I found myself pacing the floor. I’d had a busy day. Cleaning. Laundry. Nice meals with my kids. I even ran a mile and exercised. So, a really nice day. No apparent stress. But Sunday night something else was calling.

I wasn’t really in the “mood” to paint at that late hour, but I realized my restless itch could only be scratched by throwing some paint around.

So I poured a shot of very good scotch, (I am a whiskey girl) unwrapped two brand-new, very large oil panels and mixed up a ton of paint. I then grabbed the biggest brush I own.

I put on some sassy David Bowie and painted until the wee hours of the morning. No thought. No care. No plan. Just the experience of the paint hitting a surface. Which is really unlike me- I tend to be a planner.

Yeah, sometimes I get restless. Or rather my soul does.

But the next morning, hmmmm… can I business-expense whiskey? ๐Ÿ˜Š


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