I had forgotten that smell of oily rags and the sharp smack of chemical mediums. Brushes that fit snug in the hand, after years of use, the bristles turn knowingly. "Watch your head!" The rack I used to hit my head on, no longer catches me unaware. I covet the sunny morning light and cool afternoon shade. The chickens sometimes lay a sneaky egg in the dark corner.
We've seen some times, this room and I. It knows a good deal of my secrets and has heard me sing loud and long into the night. (I thought no one was listening).
It's nice to not have to please a gallery. Free time. To play, pull out the crazy colours and have fun. I listen to Dylan and The Doors, music from my wayward youth. Janis Joplin when I fight with my partner, Dave Mathews when I love him.
I don't need to think about the washing or working in the garden. I may not answer the phone and emails are far from my mind. I just am. I'm here to just happily follow my brush.