Me Too


Moms painting square

I still get goosebumps every time.  Even though I know it will happen, it still catches my soul with awe. There is an unmistaken hush that gathers over a group fully engaged in artistic thought.  Sometimes the quiet is a matter of seconds, others minutes.  I taught a group of sixty moms, hungry for adult interaction last week.  Even this group of talkative ladies was lulled into silence when given a brush, watercolors, and an inspiring prompt.  It didn’t last long, but, as I elbowed the organizer next to me, I said, “This is almost my favorite part.”  The ladies had calmed their nervous systems and accessed their lateral and medial prefrontal cortexes, the part of the brain responsible for meditation.

I continued to teach about the brain, about art, about my journey with both, and in the end, we all left happy…even the ladies who had some pre-painting jitters.  As the ladies were leaving I overheard them talking.

“Wow, I feel so relaxed!”

“Me too.”

“I thought I wasn’t good at art.”

“I’m going to go buy some watercolors.”

“Me too.”

Joy couldn’t begin to describe how I felt at that moment.  Hopefully she will get the watercolors, and hopefully she will play with them.  It’s just what art does, and I’m  just glad to get to be a part of it.