The Art of Crayons

After being in England for six days, I must say, this has got to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever had the pleasure or fortune of feasting my eyes upon. Every time I turn around there is something more beautiful than I could have ever imagined previously. Its truly incredible; its like places you read about or see in books but can’t actually imagine being a part of. My camera has really been getting quite the workout. If life is truly not measured by the moments in it, but by the moments that take your breath away, I’d say I’m doing pretty good.

Agreed, yes?

Additionally, I’m getting to spend lots of time with two of my most favorite little girls. I’ve gotta say, playing “Princess” is much more realistic when you’re in England surrounded by ancient castles, “enchanted gardens”, glorious "kingdoms", and enough variations of tea to supply tea parties for an entire lifetime. 

There is something therapeutic about spending hours a day revisiting the things you used to do when you were little. Playing tic-tac-toe, hangman, “go fish" and coloring the same things I did when I was five… using the exact same type of crayons, only with a few more years of experience under my belt has served as some much needed time of relaxation and reflection. Some of the few fond memories I have of my childhood are of being endlessly happy with a box of Crayola crayons and a notebook. I could sit there for hours and be perfectly content. I am happy to report that that is still true today.

Randy Pausch introduced an interesting concept to me about two years ago when I read his novel, The Last Lecture. (I highly recommend it… its very much worth the short amount of time it takes to read) He encouraged his students to pick up a crayon, rub it in between your fingers, feel the texture, draw with it a little, smell the smell, and see if it doesn’t put you back into being a child. It does… and to do so now, about 15 years after I quit using crayons religiously, makes me feel a little less robbed of my childhood.

On any given day, you can ask me for a crayon and I’ll likely be able to supply you with one. I often carry one with me post reading The Last Lecture and have yet to regret it. Because, on occasion, it’s comforting to know that there was a point in your life in which the most serious thing you were faced with on a daily basis, was what crayon to choose. 

You don’t have to stop coloring because you grow old… you grow old because you stop coloring.

Take that as you will.

-L