Am I creative??

This is a really good question, and in the past I would have said, "sometimes" or, "a little bit". And if comparing myself to some wonderfully talented people out there, then the answer would probably have been, "No!".

I am beginning to feel a bit differently about all this though, thanks to a wonderful book that has been sitting on my shelf for over a year. My mother gave it to me for my second to last birthday. I decided to pick it up and start reading it after a chance encounter in Borders Bookshop this week.

A man was rifling through some travel guides in the sale bin, and his girlfriend said to him,

"Don't buy that. You're never going to go there!".

My heart broke for that man. Just because he may never go to Mongolia or wherever, whats to stop him imagining and dreaming about it?

And just because I may never make a living as an artist, why shouldn't I enjoy the pleasure of drawing, of creating something, of being creative...

I have been reading it in bed at night, and drawing things from around the room, often using my ipod touch instead of paper. The above drawing is a pile of folded laundry on my dressing table.

I would show you the portrait of my sleeping husband in his undies, but this is a G rated blog.