I have a painting in my basement that has been sitting there for almost two years. It’s not finished. It needs a white wash over the top and then it will be done. I started it for Stacey and Dan, but they don’t need it anymore. I personally like it, but there is not more space for any paintings in my tiny house. It is gathering dust.

I have two huge canvases that I got for an incredibly low price at the local art store. They smelled like some horrible solvent when we bought them, but now they smell like the basement. They are covered in plastic and clean, but they haven’t been touched. I had some great ideas for them.

Every few days, we walk past the art store. It’s on the way to many of the places that we go regularly. I linger outside, peeking in like a child who has no money for candy. I want to go in and buy a pile of oils and brushes and any other supplies they have. It’s not that I don’t have the money to paint. I just don’t have the time. I’m writing and reading and working and riding my bike and playing with friends. The thought of dragging out those oils and setting up to paint sounds like a chore to me.

But I miss it. I want to finish my painting. I want to give those empty canvases life, even if there is no room on my walls for them. I guess it’s time to drag out the oils and my blue lab coat.