Writing is my greatest passion, but I've felt lately that a little artistic variety might inspire a renewed sense of fearlessness and patience. It was with this mentality today that I went down to the Mona Lisa art supply store and, for the first time in a decade, replenished my supply of paint and brushes. I would not have been so successful in my mission were it not for the kind gent who walked me through the store, helping me select everything I would need to begin my creative cross-training.
Sadly, I did not catch his name. What I did grasp, though, were his views on patience with ourselves as we practice our art -- whether it's writing, painting, yoga, or throwing horseshoes (OK, he didn't actually say that last one, but you get my point). As I went off on a nervous monologue about my desire to dabble in the visual arts, the philosophical purveyor of paint reminded me that patience and forgiveness are two of the essential ingredients in anything we practice.
"That's why it's called 'a practice,'" he said with a kind smile, wrapping up our browse through the store's aisles as he took my debit card.
"You're so right," I smiled back at him from my side of the counter. "Thank you so much for all your help, and for that little life lesson."
The debit machine beeped in approval, and I bounced out the door into the crisp, January air, excited to colour my creativity a few new shades.
|A small, acrylic painting I did to get the paint-ball rolling.|