Crayons (reminiscences of a childhood)

Drawing everyday feels good even if it's just a doodle to those who enjoy it. It's been around 3-4 days in a row that I've been drawing daily. It's nice, it feels good to practice.

Normally I try my best to draw as close to the reference pictures or the images in my mind. 

Today, I tried to do it differently. 

I didn't keep any such standard in my process. I just took my sketch pen, drew some really simplistic drawings with my right hand...I made it a point to draw things I remember I used to draw often as a child. Then I took out my oil pastels and coloured it in with my left (non-dominant) hand. I chose my non-dominant hand purposely to re-live the child-like colouring I used to do in those years. I embraced the nostalgia of my childhood and all the memories of it. 

It was difficult to colour within the outlines, but I let myself be less than my achievable level of perfect. I smiled and coloured as I thought of my childhood spent colouring. 

I remember the smell of crayons and the boxes of them my teachers used to keep in their cupboards. I remember how my eyes would be fixed on those boxes whenever I roamed around in my latter schooldays as well, when I was in high-school. I love the feeling of potential in boxes of stationery and bunches of empty papers. They're so empowering to my mind that's ever ready to create something. (Even if the creation is terrible).

I remember how simple life was at that point. School days spent memorizing numbers & alphabets, drawing & colouring and making friends. It's not that I would want to go back in time, however, I'm just nostalgic.

I remember the old children's shows I used to watch, like Blues Clues, Teletubbies and Dora the Explorer. I also remember how I cringed when I watched it again at the age of 14 or 15. I still want to try food from the Teletubbies even to this day. 

 

I remember all those colouring books I'd get. But had a strange hatred for. I wanted to colour my own drawings, not someone else's. Though, some were an exception. That feeling of wanting to make my own path isn't new, I guess. 

I know how easy life can be when we don't force our paths to be perfect and comfortable...but allow things to happen so that could lead to our growth and improvement. There's so much to learn. But like the crayons I used today that I couldn't help but colour outside the lines sometimes, I'll try to not be to hard on myself when I get things wrong....as it was before in those sweet childhood days.