.and the fingers found my paints.

Day twenty four.
Behind on the photography and this is why.

Life should be about spontaneity.
It should be about not having to think and ponder about things too much.
Thoughts turn into worries and then worries turn into doubts.
Empty canvases have been sitting in the spare room for months.
And for months I have tried to convince myself that they needed to be filled.
And for months I have doubted my ideas.
Then in one moment, I felt the urge. No questions were asked, my brush just headed straight to this little piece of canvas paper.
Nothing with hidden meanings, no secret depth of reasoning in the process. Just my pencil, paints and paper.

Simplicity. Black and white.

An emotional abstraction where perhaps it is only I who can feel the emotions within the strokes, but nevertheless, it is a piece of me. A piece of me I am unbelieveably sharing freely, another layer that I seem to be unravelling.

Now I believe that my tendency to overthink prevents my ability to create, 
and perhaps simplicity (and courage) is all I have ever needed.
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