We Caved and Colored

Have I ever told you that I like coloring? Well, I'll tell you now.

I like coloring--so much that often, when I buy a Spongebob coloring book, I've been known to sit on my bed for hours, hissing at anyone who comes near while I'm trying to color Patrick's shorts the perfect shades of green and pink. I color like it's my job--shading, highlighting, scribbling flecks of contrasting color into Barbie's hair or deliberating much too long over Wild Raspberry or Hot Magenta for the stripes in Strawberry Shortcake's shirt. I am selective in my crayon choice and have been known to choose colors based on their names alone. You would understand this if you're familiar with Crayola's Box 'o 96, featuring Macaroni n' Cheese, a warm soft orange, or Wild Blue Yonder, a murky mountainous blue.

I've also been known to throw out a perfectly good picture and start over if I've colored outside the lines or, God forbid, misjudged the intensity of Jungle Green (which, for the record, is far too vibrant for an eye color choice). So it has been a good exercise for me to encourage the freedom of expression that's so beautifully demonstrated by people when they color--sometimes out of the lines, sometimes all one color, but every time, their own style. And while I'm carefully gliding my yellow crayon (Laser Lemon, to be precise) along a flower petal to add depth and my friend's two year old cousin Sophie decided Shamrock is a nice choice for Bert 'n Ernie's faces, I've come to the conclusion that not only is it okay, but it's pretty cool that people do their own thing and stand by it. There are no rules to creativity.

***

Savanna's shattered phone has been replaced, but before she synced her contacts, I mellowed in the peace and quiet of a house with quiet phones--which overlapped to a vacant computer and Naomi caved-in. My mom calls it "the cave"--the secret place we retreat to when we're subconsciously overwhelmed or too busy. It usually involves--without even intention--ignoring the phone, letting Twitter interations stack up and hibernating to the inner depths of our homes where we bake, read books or, in my case, color. Retreating to the cave is a necessary occurance for me--a replenishing inverse from the go-and-do-and-see times. I like both ends of the spectrum--the thrill of adventure as well as the comfort and convenience of routine and feeling settled.

Holidays make me feel settled, and traditions like dyeing eggs connect me to all the puddles of nostalgic happiness, and dressing up in costumes and begging strangers for candy -- oh, that's the best. The holidays are coming up. Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas. Pretty soon, you're gonna have to to beat the holiday unicorns away from your timeline whenever I'm online.

I love that there is no reason behind traditions like dressing up and going door-to-door for candy. Or rather, there is, but when I Googled the historical explanation, it didn't excite me as much as "because it's fun" did. And I'm totally cool with doing fun things for no reason.

Happy Wednesday.