Art.

A christmas gift this year was a box of 36 watercolour pencils, and last night, I was playing with them, drawing an African violet leaf, front and back.

I haven't done a lot of drawing in the last 20 years, I've worked in a different medium, and I'd forgotten how engrossing it can be. I had my little dog sprawled over me, underneath the pad of watercolor paper. She loves the warmth and comfort of physical closeness when she sleeps, and is perfectly willing to tolerate a book or some such being rested against her side, as long as she has the major portion of my lap for herself.

When I put my drawing down, I surfaced to my surroundings. This is how art has always been for me - an alternate universe, which engulfs me, leaving no room for worries, concerns, or any intrusions from daily life. I find in it, peace and great satisfaction, whether my efforts are successful, or not at all what I'd hoped for.

I'm grateful that art has been a gift from God all my life - a safe place to be entirely myself - joy running through me like a shiver.