I get up every morning and sketch. Some days it's while the kids are getting ready for school, others it's the moments right after they have walked out the door, usually just for 15 minutes or so. I often sneak back to my book at lunch or while the girls do their homework. I leave my book and pencil right out in the open, so it's always calling my name. Lately it's been a rash of Christmas memories or how I would celebrate the holidays if I were a squirrel or bunny. I especially enjoy sketching the memories. Little snippets of my childhood on paper - just makes me smile. Of course, they probably look nothing like my real relatives and the details are those captured by my little kid brain video-recorder, filtered through 30 years of dreams and added in details that make memories so sweet. Here is one that is in progress:
That's my hippie dad, which is pretty much how he still looks today. I have many fond memories of him singing to me and my cousins. Songs made up about our heroic deeds as mixed up cowboys. Pirate sea-shanties and Christmas carols. His favorite was the Little Drummer Boy. I can hear his voice clear as bell if I close my eyes, "pa rum pum pum pum."
Some days it seems I only have those 15 minutes, but I have been making that time and guard it like a hawk. Little steps forward, but going forward.