paint brush

It is insane how completely happy I am with a paint brush in my hand. It almost doesn't need to have paint on it. I have this particular 2 inch brush. Wooden handle. Diagonal edge for cutting in. I have had it longer than I have been married. Fourteen or fifteen years now. The bristles are soft and supple. The wood fits so comfortably in my hand. It is an old friend.

So, today I was actually painting with it. And I was so content. I was humming and didn't even realize it. Do you know I can paint a beautifully straight line with that brush? Just a bit of eye/hand coordination and bristles that let paint flow as smoothly as silk.

As you can tell, I am feeling better. I still started out a little slowly, but I am beginning to feel more like myself again. I did some quiet computer work in the morning, designing a map for the back of a business card. Two languages. Lots of words, very little space. Nice challenge. Painted at the restaurant in the afternoon.

Also helped the Mr. with a few preparations for his upcoming seminar. He, too, wonderfully creative. He came home today with a bag full of colored paper, glitter glue, scissors with crafty edges. I am reminded why I love this man. His seminar starts tomorrow and will last for two weeks, so I'll be seeing little of him during the day. Obviously I will need to fill my time with more painting.

And the cat has been into things all night. Going where she shouldn't, chewing things she oughtn't, being an all-around nuisance. I feel like all I've done tonight is chase her and reprimand her. I think it's because she feels bored and ignored. The Mr. and I were both busy today. So, I'm going to wrap up and try to spend a little quality kitty time.