Discovering a Lost Art

I just rediscovered a lost art: coloring. Sure, I used to create many fine pieces when I was a child. But then life got in the way. Jobs, paying bills, grocery shopping. I grew up, the crayons melted in the summer sun, and the coloring books got thrown in the trash (i.e., in the old days before recycling). But now Justin is interested in coloring, so we bought the 64-pack of Crayolas with cool colors like robin’s egg blue, burnt sienna, and my all-time favorite: sea green. The box even has a built-in sharpener on the back! We picked out a variety of coloring books, too: Sponge Bob, Star Wars (for Justin), and Disney (for me). We sit at the kitchen table with our books and Crayolas spread out, the temperate summer breeze wafting through the room, Kids Bop on the stereo, and our noses pressed into the pages where the black-and-white line drawings wait to be brought to life. Justin is getting pretty good at the whole venture, and I have found that some things never change. I still outline the pictures before shading them in, and I still love the carefree, child-like, right-brain joy of coloring. Now I wonder why I haven’t been doing it all along.