Drawn Out Yammering

I did something the other evening that I've not been able to do for quite a few years. If we still lived in New York, I would not have been able to do it at all. Or at the very least would not have been able to do it without much pain. What was this mysterious activity?

I sat down with a sketchbook in my lap and a pencil in my hand, and drew. My hand! It didn't hurt to hold a normal pencil! And use it!

I used to draw for hours on end. I have sketchbooks filled with stuff. I used to draw on my breaks when I worked at the place which shall not be named. I was 23 when I got a ridiculous cramp in my drawing hand. I was at work, and instead of going home I stayed and typed one-handed for the rest of the night. (Idiot that I am.) From that point on, every once in a while I'd go run my hands under hot water to make them feel better. I got to a point where holding a pencil just hurt too damn much. Luckily, I could make artwork with a computer. Not nearly the same, but it helped keep the artsy creativity going. I never felt like I could get the computer images just right, though. That's not to say that the ones I drew were "just right" either. I just felt more control over the whole process from brain to paper, rather than from brain to computer screen.

The fact remains that my joints don't ache here. Whether that's because of the elevation, the lack of humidity, the lack of stress, the lack of 30 excess pounds of blubber, or a combination of the aforementioned, I really don't care. I can sit down and friggin' draw again! Woohoo!