My Tuesday Mess Around
Woke up feeling totally blah today. Coffee tasted like mud, brain felt foggy. Hadn’t touched my sketchbook in weeks. Honestly just wanted to crawl back into bed. But remembered that “avid artistry” crap I kept preaching online – felt like a hypocrite staring at my blank wall. So I hauled my grumpy ass to the kitchen table anyway.
The Ugly Start
Grabbed a busted charcoal pencil lying around – the cheap kind that snaps if you breathe wrong. Just started scratching nonsense on paper like a toddler:
- Scribbled weird circles til the lead crumbled
- Drew wobbly lines that looked like spaghetti
- Poked holes in the paper when I pressed too hard
Looked awful. Zero inspiration. Nearly tossed the whole mess in the trash.
Then I actually looked out my damn window. Like really looked. Mrs. Henderson’s laundry was flapping on the line like flags. A stupid fat pigeon was fighting its reflection on a car bumper. Caught myself almost smiling.
The Dumb Little Breakthrough
Grabbed my half-melted crayons. Started copying what I saw:
- Made jagged blue shapes for laundry waving crazy
- Smeared grey goop for the angry pigeon belly
- Scratched silver streaks for the car hood scratches
Didn’t try making it “good”. Just let my hand move like dragging bricks through mud. Felt weirdly… lighter? Page looked like a kindergartener’s fridge art still. Didn’t care.
Biggest takeaway? Stop waiting for lightning bolts. Inspiration’s usually hiding in your crappy Tuesday chores. That pile of dishes? Weird soap bubble rainbows. That peeling wallpaper? Texture galore. Just grab whatever junk’s nearby – lipstick on napkins, coffee stains on bills – and mess around like nobody’s watching. Cause honestly? Nobody is. Your bad scribbles still count.
