Thursday, August 2, 2012

Painting is for the Soul

Grandpa made me upset again tonight. I was eating dinner with the family, and Auntie was explaining to me the history between two Chinese cities. I was getting the gist of it, even though there were some words I didn't understand. Grandpa buts in--"She doesn't understand what you say." And then he goes back to his food, satisfied he has made it wide and clear that I am stupid. And then no one talks to me because its awkward. I eat a bit more food, save face (by not crying), and then leave, saying I'm full. As I go back to my room I hear them talking about me, assuming I can't understand. 


And what do I do when I'm upset? 


First I stand on my head. For reals. I practiced my head stand for a few minutes.


And then I painted. Because painting heals the soul. It gets me in my zen, where I don't have to think about problems, calculate answers, or use the left side of my brain at all. Rather, I can just play with colors, create lovely little things, and be at peace with the world. 





This one is a Chinese proverb. It says that drips of water carve stones. Or as my good friend in Alma 37 says, by small and simple things are great things brought to pass.









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