I took a painting class the other night.

Its kind of a painting for dummies class.

My first time -ever- painting an actual picture on actual canvas.

It was Valentine themed. A tree with hearts as leaves.

Its the color of my moms kitchen I think it would look nice in there with a black frame.

I feel so accomplished from one thing that doesn't even look that...great.

But its mine. Its something I did. It has my name on it.

Something I've never done before.

Almost every painting or artwork or picture in my house is someone elses.

This is MINE.

It was fun. It was somewhat relaxing. Its hard when you are a perfectionist at times.

After these last two months of moping about and doing nothing I feel somewhat accomplished.

Renewed.

My mind was just soaking up the ideas of what I could paint next.

I couldn't sleep. My mind was bubbling with the possibilities of what I could do, even if it turned out crappy.

Hey, everyone has to have a hobby.

I've always enjoyed doing things that involve talent,

But I never actually had the talent to do anything.

I wasn't very good at anything. But I sure loved doing it.

I'm sure this will be another one of those adventures.

But hey, if it makes me feel good, somewhat talented, and accomplished.

I'll do it.