the blasés

I am one of those dramatics who dare to say creativity saved my life.  I discovered this later than those who set out for art school at the brand-spankin' age of 18.  I discovered this in my thirties (as a side note, I've always considered myself a late bloomer so 18? 30?  What's the difference?) 

Now, I am approaching my mid-forties and cannot imagine my life without a daily dose of some creative endeavor, no matter how meek or mild.

Yesterday, I was having one of those days we all have here or there: completely uneventful, empty, what some would call blasé.  I noticed the picnic table in our backyard, completely covered with leaves, assorted around rocks and other objects I had placed there.  I took a photo to capture my observation.  All of the sudden, what felt dull, felt lighter.  

This doesn't always happen.  Sometimes, I can't see the opportunity.  When I do, though, I am grateful for my observations. I am grateful I am one who notices and pays attention.  

It doesn't have to be a masterpiece.  It just has to be yours.
It can turn an entire day around.


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