I often hear my friends say they can’t draw or paint. If you can hold a pencil or a paintbrush, you can apply pigment or relief to a surface.

Sometimes I do just that. I make marks. Then I make more marks. I apply paint, water, graphite and anything else I might have in my art box or within reach.

I just apply it. I don’t ask it to look like anything other than what it is. Sometimes the shape or line is in response to what is already there, sometimes not.

I just play.

With no expectation of it looking like a landscape or a portrait, there is no disappointment. No frustration, just play.

Afterwards, I look at it. I turn it this way and that, and quiet my mind long enough to begin to see what I’ve done.

I’m no longer playing. No longer manipulating the image.

The pictures begin to appear. Pictures I could not have contrived, and yet they flowed from my hand. Just like that.

If nothing else, I have enjoyed the act of creating. If nothing else, I am left with this token, this reminder of when I let myself play.