MY encounter with creativity was not predesigned, planned, or expected. A date took me to the mountain and we finger painted while we talked. It was all sort of absent minded; I honestly couldn't even see what color I was dipping my fingers into. However, by the end, I was surprised to find that I was in love with our painting. The painting wasn't forced. I wasn't trying to be creative. I'm sure this looks like a mess, but the result was beautiful to me.
THIS week, I felt like my life was falling apart. It was healing to create when everything around me seemed to be deteriorating.
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