Last Fall, T and I were at Barnes and Noble when she showed me some grown up coloring books. She knew what she was doing; I was intrigued at once. She gave me two books and some colored pencils for my birthday in November. For most of that month, I colored when I had a spare moment and I enjoyed every element of it. Come Christmas, each of us received more coloring books and now we are sold on the activity, carefully sharpening our pencils or selecting the right marker and coloring when we have the time and inclination.
It’s relaxing and just as enjoyable as it was when I was a kid, though these days I do a much better job staying within the lines.
Some of the illustrations are detailed and beautiful to look at so before color is added, there is the pleasure of leafing through lovely illustrations, looking for just the right page to fill with color.
When I was a child, I had lots of rules about my coloring. I was often disappointed in the things I colored because I sought a perfection that I was unable to achieve. As a grown up, I feel free to try unusual color combinations; to leave things unfinished; to select a new page even when the current one hasn't been completed. I feel free to be imperfect. That’s a good lesson for me to embrace.
Coloring really is relaxing. It’s also fun. It provides time to let my mind wander and be free.
Today is a rainy Sunday, just perfect for cats to sit on the warm radiators under the windows, brew up a nice pot of tea, and sharpen the pencils for some time with my coloring books.
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