I creep down stairs during nap time and carefully take out my brushes, my paper and water colors. I set up my station at the dining room table so I’m still in ear shot of my sleeping little one. When everything is set up the way I want, I go to work. It’s not quite new to me to be painting, but it definitely doesn’t come easy. I’m learning as I’m dipping the brush and swirling it through the paint on the palette. I’ve been practicing this fine art every day. The constant color makes me happy. The ideas spring to my head, one after the other. Some days it’s hard to keep up with them. The dining room table is littered with bits of paper covered in watercolor flowers and sketches. These nap time painting sessions are becoming something I look forward to every day. Something I yearn for when I wake up in the morning. I tell Ellie that I paint too. These are Mama’s brushes. This is Mama’s palette. Ellie wants to paint and we do so at her little table. I see her move her hands this way and that in the paint, swirling and mixing the colors together. She looks up at me and asks for more paint. She points to the color she would like and where on the paper she would like it. I scoop out a glob of orange finger paint and she goes back to her work. I look over at my watercolors looking lonely on the table. My hands itch to hold the brushes. To dip them into the water to collect the right amount of moisture for the right amount of paint. I get excited for the days Ellie and I can paint side by side. Brushes at the ready, making magic with color. I’m thinking that this is what it feels like to discover something about yourself. Something new and exciting.
Two ladies came by the other day and before they left they asked me “Are you an artist?” Those words caught me off guard. I wanted to say Yes! Yes I am! I wanted to proclaim it and claim it as my own. Instead I said, “I’d like to be one.”

*joining in with Write Alm’s Prompt-A-Day.