Time for me

My palette is full of colour and seated next to a warm chai tea that welcomes me into a new day. The sweet tones of Hozier are filling the air as I nestle in and take a deep breath. I have found time to reset. Ahh the relief.

It has been a long week, with work carrying me into the night and instilling tension in my body. But as the sweet music flows through the house, I can already begin to feel the knots unwind. My body whispers to me “Yes, it was worth the energy to begin this practice”.

I look at the canvas and study its size and proportions before I begin. Overlying the form, of the frog I will soon paint, on the canvas in my mind. Visualising the painting developing layer by layer. My love for this mental exercise, and the focus it requires, means it works effectively at clearing my mind of distractions. Particularly when accompanied by the familiar and joyful melodies in the background. Yes, this is where my healing begins.

Before long, my focus moves from form to colour. I spread an array of emotions across the canvas like a rainbow that leads to a pot of joy. And it is at this stage that I slowly sink into the painting. I’m leaning forward and I’m entirely absorbed in the art of trial and error in mixing colours. I’m experimenting with how to apply significant changes in colour across the frog. And I’m unconsciously singing along to the music that supports my bubble of self-care.

It is in this stage that time stretches. I seem to step through the canvas and into a world of bliss. I can spend hours here, experimenting with colour and application techniques. But then, suddenly, I run out of tea and we can’t have that.

I step back to put the kettle on and it is this small break that gives me perspective. I realise how many hours have past and consider how much longer I can stay in this practice before hunger and the need for a hot shower set in.

I look over at my painting and my perspective shifts focus. I realise the power of the overall image and layers of colour. Perhaps it is time to move onto the next layer. To light and dark, to the creation of depth and the injection of life into my frog that looks out at me across the room. It’s eyes not yet sparkling with joy.

As I take my seat again, with my hands wrapped around the blissfully warm cup of tea, I decide my frog needs thick rimmed, black glasses. I gently set my tea down and get to work embellishing my frog’s character.

Once done, I lean back and think “Yes, now it’s time for light and shadow”. And then rapidly my character begins to come to life as its glasses begin to reflect the light, it’s eyes dazzle with detail and its form gains a sense of depth. I’m stepping back more often now and losing track of the lyrics playing in the background. Joy and excitement are rising in my body as I see my character wake up; I feel a sense of pride blooming in my chest.

For it is this sense of pride in what I can create that gives me inner peace. And it is this practice that joyfully absorbs my mind and allows me to disconnect from my day-to-day life.

And now my practice is complete and my character is alive. I smile broadly back at my frog and put down my paint brush. We’re going to have a great future together, me and Ribbit. ©