This month has flown by and there’s only one week left of World Watercolor Month! So this made me think of time, and well, that’s why today’s doodlewash is this red vintage alarm clock. I kind of miss these old clocks as they seem to have more charm than the little phone bricks we carry around in our pockets today. Also, the sound they made was perfectly startling and the digital version can’t quite replicate the sheer terror one felt when hearing one of these burst to life on a Monday morning. Although time is fleeting for this first annual global event, I hope most of you have discovered the joyful addiction of daily painting and will keep on painting as we move into August. For those of you in the Facebook Group, stick around, as the group will continue as World Watercolor Group moving forward!
When I was a kid, time didn’t seem to move this quickly. Summer days would linger on in a fabulously endless way as we’d ride our bikes through the neighborhood, dreaming up something brilliant to do each day. I now realize it was because our mothers and fathers took care of all that awful “adult stuff” and we were free to play and be kids. Now I have to do all that stuff myself and frankly, some days it kind of sucks. But painting has become my play time and I’m very protective of the precious little time I’ve set aside for it. It’s become my time to recharge and relax in a way that I just can’t get from doing anything else. Not even wine. And that’s saying a lot.
During that amazing time when I’m holding my paint brush, I fall into a zone and time begins to slow down a bit. Just like when I was a kid. All the noise of the world goes away and it’s just me and those little swirling pools of pigment and water. I’m not actually shutting the world out so much as letting it all in. Letting my thoughts and everything I experienced that day wash over me without really stopping to question anything. Every worry, every little doubt, flows out onto the paper and I’m left with a quiet contentment. I’m at peace. And no matter what happens the next day or the day after that, I always know I’ll have this moment again. Me, my pen, my brush, my paints, and that perfect little moment, when time stands still.