can’t think of a title

After days of painting and experiencing the evaporation of time with no thoughts of any significance I can recall, I find a peaceful sort of oblivion without much in the way of need or reaching or searching or wondering about much of anything. No hurry, no stress, nothing really but being absorbed into the canvas and paints and brushes and such. I don’t really even care if I never produce another piece my critical mind thinks worthy of existence, I just love the way I feel when I am immersed in that place that takes my imagination anywhere it wants to go without hindrance or inhibition, without limitation, without rules, boundaries, alarm clocks, expectations, or even time. I find myself speaking more slowly, being more relaxed, not hurrying from one moment to the next but rather just taking each one as it comes for whatever that means, and what I discover are more precious, spontaneous moments than could ever be planned, breaking into singing and dancing and laughing, and acting on the spur of the moment.

It reminds me a little bit of the way a daydream can whisk you away from yourself without a care in the world and you just relax into the ease of your imagination. So much of life is regimented and scheduled and structured, it’s nice to take your shoes off once in a while and walk barefoot through the grass, think about nothing, stare up into the sky, and let your dreams carry you away on a magic carpet ride.