I got my crayons out again yesterday. Caught up in the online surge of creativity (you know who you are!) and with an unexpected spare day, I re-discovered my watercolour pencils and an art bin that dates back about 18 years. It was fun. Unexpectedly so. I can’t really draw, but it was good to explore with no expectations. To lose myself, for a while, in colours and shapes and ‘oh, I wonder what that would look like’.
Art is one of the activities that got sidelined when my eating disorder barged in. It’s a perfect example of how all-consuming the whole thing is. How it manages to get everywhere.
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