Tuesday morning and I dashed back home from the school run… a feeling of urgency speeding my step… planning my moves for the moment I got in.

Small boy is at nursery, exploring the world; big boy at school, discovering, learning.

Here at home, I too have been playing, exploring, learning, discovering and, most surprisingly to me, I have been transported right back to my student days. It was a smell that did it… that most evocative sense… taking me back to the big rooms of my art school days, of tai chi in the mornings and big, light rooms and painted shoes and oh, the fun I had at Bournville! This was the place I got to experiment. It was here that I tasted what it felt like to be an artist… to be free… to play with materials and discover new techniques, to mix with other artists across the disciplines and learn from them, share ideas and excitement and forge friendships grounded in art.

Here at home, I am learning again. I am learning to be brave… to paint freely with colours, a few shapes and ideas in mind, but no fixed outcome… no final destination other than to finish, no clear idea of what I will make, how it will look, just to paint.

Here at home, I let the colours out this morning. I have been just playing with paint on paper, rolling it, spreading it, letting it do its own thing, tell its own story. I don’t quite know what will come next and today, I don’t care. All that matters is that I have started and something will come and as I write these words, waiting for my paint to dry, I feel a sense of anticipation…
of excitement…
of magic and mystery…
wonder and joy.

This is what art means to me.