While coloring
Jul. 2nd, 2016 11:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soniaOn impulse, while walking through Powell's, I bought an adult "stress-free" semi-abstract coloring book, and a set of 10 markers.
Then I let them sit for a couple of weeks. Maybe I should give it to someone else. Maybe I should return them.
This morning I realized that my bedroom feels like a more playful place than the downstairs office with the computer. While the bedroom is often too hot or too cold, it was a lovely temperature today, so I brought the coloring book and pens upstairs.
My mental image was of lying on the floor like a young kid, but the armchair looked more comfortable, so I settled there. Flipped through, chose a page full of vines and flowers, and started.
The first thing I realized is that it has to be like a labyrinth walk - the experience is whatever it is, not what I think it should be. I have stomped around labyrinths angrily, and today I colored anxiously.
Not just the expected worries about coloring outside the lines (yay finepoint pens!) and choosing adjacent colors that look good together (boo, no purple pen!), but a surprising worry about using up the pens. Not just the worry about wasting time, but also about wasting a page in the book that maybe someone else could color better.
The design had a lot of repeating elements, and even as I debated internally, I decisively colored matching elements alike. Something about making order.
I noticed this sense of needing to be useful, productive, and underneath that, a sense of not really deserving to use resources.
I'm also noticing that while my daily morning meditation isn't "productive" time, it has not been subject to debate because it so clearly feels better than not doing it. It will be interesting to see how coloring settles out.
I can see why so many people are taking up knitting and crocheting. It's colorful, soothing, repetitive, and you come out with something useful at the end. I used to crochet afghans and scarves. I don't seem to have the same amount of open time, though. There's always something else I could be doing.
Like now, I'm going to go dig out the three rogue bay trees that took root last year. I've been wondering why so much of my garden is overrun with one invasive plant or another, and I realized it's because I was completely overwhelmed last summer and didn't spend much time in the garden. There's always something ready to take over here.
Then I let them sit for a couple of weeks. Maybe I should give it to someone else. Maybe I should return them.
This morning I realized that my bedroom feels like a more playful place than the downstairs office with the computer. While the bedroom is often too hot or too cold, it was a lovely temperature today, so I brought the coloring book and pens upstairs.
My mental image was of lying on the floor like a young kid, but the armchair looked more comfortable, so I settled there. Flipped through, chose a page full of vines and flowers, and started.
The first thing I realized is that it has to be like a labyrinth walk - the experience is whatever it is, not what I think it should be. I have stomped around labyrinths angrily, and today I colored anxiously.
Not just the expected worries about coloring outside the lines (yay finepoint pens!) and choosing adjacent colors that look good together (boo, no purple pen!), but a surprising worry about using up the pens. Not just the worry about wasting time, but also about wasting a page in the book that maybe someone else could color better.
The design had a lot of repeating elements, and even as I debated internally, I decisively colored matching elements alike. Something about making order.
I noticed this sense of needing to be useful, productive, and underneath that, a sense of not really deserving to use resources.
I'm also noticing that while my daily morning meditation isn't "productive" time, it has not been subject to debate because it so clearly feels better than not doing it. It will be interesting to see how coloring settles out.
I can see why so many people are taking up knitting and crocheting. It's colorful, soothing, repetitive, and you come out with something useful at the end. I used to crochet afghans and scarves. I don't seem to have the same amount of open time, though. There's always something else I could be doing.
Like now, I'm going to go dig out the three rogue bay trees that took root last year. I've been wondering why so much of my garden is overrun with one invasive plant or another, and I realized it's because I was completely overwhelmed last summer and didn't spend much time in the garden. There's always something ready to take over here.
no subject
Date: 2016-07-03 10:09 pm (UTC)Maybe in a couple days, look back at the competing and see if it has become art?
no subject
Date: 2016-07-04 09:33 pm (UTC)If you meant whether the coloring has become art... That feels orthogonal to the purpose of the whole thing. Coloring with 10 predetermined colors inside someone else's lines isn't my first choice of artistic mediums. I miss high-fire ceramics, where I dipped my pots in a couple of glazes and then waited to see how they would combine in the kiln.
no subject
Date: 2016-07-04 10:03 pm (UTC)The ceramics sounds like a really good opportunity for some interesting color combinations and designs.