After a long time, I was motivated to start a watercolor painting. I took out this picture that I shot a year ago and decided to paint it. I had chinnu started on a coloring "project" next to me and got started. It was pure bliss - for 5 minutes. Then:
Chinnu: Amma, let me help you.
Me: Sweetie, amma is fine, why don't you finish your coloring and show me?
Chinnu: I want to dip your brush in the water.
Me: OK - here.
Chinnu: Let me paint the yellow flowers.
Me: Chinnu, amma wants to paint this. Can I give you paper so you can paint on it?
Chinnu: (starting to sniffle) No, I want to paint what you are painting.
It didn't go well. I got upset, she got upset and started screaming. And that was the end of my moments of artistic inspiration.
When I was in grad school, I didn't have much to do in my first year due to the nature of my experiments. I hated being jobless and I would go to the library and peruse books on sketching. I would then spend beautiful summer afternoons sketching. I often recall those days with great nostalgia and wish I could indulge in the luxury of persuing hobbies at leasure now. So where does all this nostalgia and desire for freedom of expression of artistic impulses leave me? With a half done watercolor that I don't know when I'll get the "muhurtham" to finish ...
