Be the Masterpiece

The other night Buck and I were in need of some zen. Of some mild-calming activity. Something therapeutic.

Something like finger painting.

Personally, I wish that I was an artist with the brush. That I could paint all the things that I feel, however deep or shallow they may be. But through out the years I have discovered that I don't share a talent with Da Vinci, Rembrandt, or Van Gogh- not even a little bit. (wont stop me from taking a painting class someday however) But forget the brush, I am quite the fan of using what nature gave me to color the canvas- my fingers.

Call it childish, call it wasteful. Call it whatever you like. I call it fantastic.

A while ago I invested in some hard core finger paints. Also some water colors and giant canvas paper. It's been a fruitful investment so far.

Especially when I discovered Buck's passion for colorful expression as well. We were driving the other week during an enchanting sunset and he expressed his passionate wish to be able to paint that sunset and the ways it made him feel.

Which brings us back to the other night of need of something therapeutic.
As soon as I saw the need arise I knew what to do. So I got out the stuff and we painted in silence. Towards the end of creating I looked up and discovered this:

Buck had apparently decided that his skin was a much better alternative to the paper and he had turned himself into an Indian Brave.

Well, if you can't beat em,  join em. 

Therapy, zen, and happiness.
Check.