I sit. Allowing my sits bones to settle fully in to my seat, simultaneously lengthening up and out through my spine. Space.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, in fully, out completely. Softening.
I lay my hand upon the page in front of me, fingers fully enlivened by the rough rag of the sheet upon which I am about to paint. Anticipation.
The first mark is made and I slip back in to myself. Home again.
Art and Mindfulness.
Creativity and Connection.
Painting and Prayer.
Brushstrokes and Breath.
This is my why. This is my what.