Michael and me

I visited Michaels Arts and Crafts store today to scratch an itch I have had for the past week. an itch that, left unscratched would have fallen in to my "wanted to do but never did" chapter of my life. well, I scratched it.

I plowed my way through the land of fake roses and lilies and bushells of unscented lavender forests; past the falling yarn boulders and the old moth ball blank-staring women shopping methodically; through the valley of forgotten frames with no fake people fake-smiling for the fake families... to find charcoal waiting patiently for me, hanging politely from their little hooks.

I plucked two, and moved on to my future sketch pads.

have I ever done this before? no. I have no idea what I'm doing. but I have confidence in myself that I'll figure it out as I go along. "but charcoal drawing is haaard" you say. well, stuff it. I am competent and determined. I can figure things out without explanation; without instruction. the only thing I could use help on is what to attempt to draw first. I should have asked the old checker lady for her advice but, I pictured myself aging a couple of years whilst listening to her stories if I so much as asked her what her favorite color was. so I declined from that option.

fruit bowl here I come.
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