A little story for you.
There was a young girl who loved to draw, she doodled everywhere she could. She felt the euphoria of reaching for a crayon while her parents slept at night and she drew cities on the white wall next to her bed (true story), in the morning she woke up somewhere different.When it rained outside, she drew pictures of the rain and then it rained inside too! As a teenager the phone rang and she would doodle on her skirt, making circles and squares, faces and patterns while her friend talked oblivious to the fact that the girl had built a new world around her. Her mother looked at the skirt a little exasperated and said,”Next time you answer the phone, just make sure you wear the same skirt.” And even when the girl, became a woman she felt edgy if separated from her pen, she doodled in her mind during the job interviews, hoping that she could colour outside the boxes. Her work diary filled with doodles and pictures, her boss didn’t like doodles and she didn’t like her boss. She dreamed of places and spaces where her head and her heart would be free. And one day she found that place, it was filled with cans of spraypaint, ink and oil, this is where she played, but the doodling didn’t stop. Even when she was done painting, she would take a pen to a canvas, because something never felt finished without the drawing. I was the same longing she felt as a child, to change something, adjust it, make it unique. The same euphoria still draws her, the same need to leave a mark to change things and embellish. She calls this feeling Grace and for this, she is so grateful. The End