In my sketchbook, I learn to be loose. Free from worry. A bird, after all, should have no hard lines.
I know so many painters that struggle with the letting go. Knowing when to stop. And being ok with it. Secure in the turning of the page. With each page I paint, it comes easier. I trust myself in this book. Some pages are birded to the maximum. Others are complete with white space. And both are good. My heart moves easily throughout.
If only living had a sketchbook. Loving. I would practice. I would know exactly to do.
Before we board the plane today, I will struggle to know if this page is complete. This vacation. Did I do enough? Give enough? Love enough? Did I leave the space to grow?
Those of you that I got to see in full feathers, I thank you. Those of you who wait in white space, I thank you, and I will return. I see the beauty in both. And there are no hard lines on this journey, but it is time to fly.
