When I was little, I would spend hours painting, drawing, cutting, and pasting anything I could get my hands on. I was quite good at this art stuff that most of my mothers’ friends came to me to complete their children’s school projects. So while their kid ran around crazy in my house, I would quietly try to create a masterpiece without considering that the teacher would know this wasn’t created by him. I guess it never bothered me that they were using me to get a good grade as long as I got to create something new.
Fast forward 10 years and I’m sitting on my bed with a blank canvas and a pencil. I am flipping through books and looking through pictures hoping to come across something inspiring. At this moment I cant help but notice that I’ve lost my spontaneous creative power. Ah adulthood!
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