When I was a child I loved coloring books, and of course I always stayed inside the lines. It was a source of great pride to my mother when our next door neighbor who was an artist commented that I had exceptional technique and control when I was only about three. Mama would repeat that compliment over and over again as evidence that I was somehow destined for greatness. Eventually society changed its mind about the art of coloring and pronounced that the ability to fill in the blank spaces of a drawing was little more creative than painting a wall. Furthermore the concept of staying within the lines was viewed as a sign of someone without any particular thinking skills. Still my mama insisted that my outstanding coloring at such a young age was indeed significant.
I soon bored of the habit of coloring as most young children do. I never developed my artistic side save for a required art class that I took at the University of Houston. I probably enjoyed that course more than anything that I ever took. The professor insisted that I should consider a change of major but since I was only one semester away from graduation that was never going to happen. I dabbled here and there in arts and crafts but never really found any reason to pursue my art. My devotion to teaching mathematics always trumped any inclinations to draw or paint. Of late my creative instincts have been mostly poured into writing although I’m not certain that the nonfictional aspect of my essays actually qualifies as inventiveness. Continue reading “Adult Coloring Books”
Returning home from vacation is always bittersweet, more so when the trip was magical. They say that there is no place like home and to a certain extent that is true. I always sleep best in my own bed and I enjoy resuming my familiar routine and yet ending a vacation is akin to the day after Christmas. All of the joy and anticipation related to the journey dissolves into piles of dirty laundry to be cleaned and chores to be done. Somehow those first few days after a glorious sojourn are so disappointing, especially for those unfortunate souls who must return to work. 
Facebook is filled with posts and images of children transitioning from one stage in life to another. There are the little ones who are going to pre-school for the first time. Their moms’ are both excited and nervous. Then there are the new middle schoolers and high school students. Perhaps the most touching of all are the young men and women who are going away for college. Their mamas are remembering the times that they held their babies in their arms and when they folded their baby clothes. Suddenly without warning childhood has ended and the babies are ready to spread their wings and work toward becoming totally independent from their parents. I sometimes wonder if the uncertainties of leaving home are more difficult for the mothers than they are for the young people who see the unknown as a well earned adventure. Life is suddenly very different and no matter how well everyone has prepared for the changes, they take all by surprise. 
The sun rises early on Storm Mountain. About five in the morning the first hints of light peek in through the window. Within thirty minutes the sky is aglow with a gorgeous show of pinks, oranges, and yellows in the east. Just in case everyone is sleeping so peacefully in the cool mountain air that they don’t awaken in time to see this glorious start to a new day, a local rooster announces that it is time to rise and shine. Other than the sweet crowing of his cock-a-doodle-do there is no other sound in the little valley encircled by rocky peaks. It is a glorious way to begin the cycle of life anew. The air is clean and invigorating. Anything seems possible in this lovely place. 
