Well, as I mentioned on Monday, the flu graced me with its ugly presence last week. I’ve never had the flu before, and I’m pretty confident when I say, I hope I never have it again – hah. Even though there were lots of bad things from the flu, there were definitely some good things that happened…
- I renewed my vows with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It is basically the greatest sandwich out there (only if you use strawberry jam though).
- I got an inordinate amount of sleep.
- I unconsciously forgot about coffee for 7 days! And I only had about half a cup on Monday. :)
- I found out that Maury Povich actually still has a job.
- And my old friend, the paint brush, came back into my life.
I don’t think I really tell anyone my love for painting because it really isn’t that big of a deal to me – just a hobby. But it’s definitely something I’ve lost sight of in the past year. I honestly don’t even remember the last time I picked up a brush, nonetheless painted the entire afternoon away. I always feel so bad because my Mom will get me canvases and brushes and I just put them in the closet hoping someday my inspiration comes back to me. It was days like Sunday that I was really grateful my Mom continues to buy me that stuff because I just had this crazy urge to paint.
It was raining here in Orlando – the perfect weather to put on some David Gray, open the glass sliding door, listen to the raindrops on the trees, and just release onto the canvas. I started out adventurous, throwing colors all over the canvas not having a clue what I was doing – I was purely enjoying the fact that I finally picked up a brush again! Gradually as the day went on, I stopped again and again to sit back, reflect and strategically plan my next move.
As with most things, there is always this crucial turning point — THE POINT OF NO RETURN!
Essentially, no part of a painting is “final,” yet I always feel like it is. With one stroke of a brush you can change the painting to something completely beautiful or it can turn into a giant mess of frustration and have it just go downhill. I often see the “giant mess of frustration” and “downhill” because let’s face it – I’m not a very patient person sometimes and so I just go throwing colors around like I know them and I screw up the painting. But Sunday? Now Sunday was unique. This weird sense of calmness came over me as I was planning, reflecting, and diving into blues, yellows, and reds. I realize now I had found the perfect combination of adventurous and strategic. Enough adventure to take a chance and put actual buttons on the canvas, yet strategic enough to use a needle and thread to attach them instead of glue and to know at what point to stop and say, “enough is enough.”
It’s funny to think about the words, “enough is enough.” There are so many situations where it applies – whether it’s a painting, a relationship, exercising (haha), or even just time to find something new – it’s like this quiet surrender to yourself just telling you to stop. This weird sense of calmness and peace comes over you and you’re just waving your little white flag.
I went to grab a drink with a friend on Monday to talk about friends, boys, jobs, opportunities, shopping, and anything else that came along with our frosty beverages – some good, some bad, some hurtful, and some hopeful. And even though through the entire conversation we never actually said to each other, “enough is enough,” we were both quietly waving our white flags, surrendering.
It’s quite humorous to me how something like this can relate so easily to the process of completing a painting but it’s kind of ironic in a sense. There’s always going to be something happening in your life where you get to a point – a crucial “point of no return” where you have to make a decision – keep trying or just be done. I don’t want anyone to get me wrong – I don’t think this is a negative thing…in fact, I think it’s quite positive. To me, “enough is enough” does not equal, “I give up.” But in fact, “enough is enough” equals, “I’ve done everything within my power to make this situation the absolute best that it can be and there is nothing left I can give to it to make it better.”
And I think on any given day, in any given situation, I’d rather take some adventure with a little bit of strategy, know when to surrender my little white flag, and say enough is enough.
I call it “Heart on a String.”