To know me is to know that despite my laid back façade and weird antics I'm often stressed-out. I'm not talking about the run of the mill stress induced anxiety that can be medicated with the stuff doctors handout like Halloween candy nowadays; you know, Buspar or any number of benzodiazepines. No, most of my stress is manifested because I'm an idea hamster-- my mind racing at a constant 50,000 RPM. ADD sufferers ain't got nothing like me.
To combat this problem I'm always exploring different ways to chill. Get down with some meditation and pranayama or do activities which focus my mind and let me get into a state of Flow. Writing, drawing and painting have conventionally been my refuge but lately I haven't wanted to be creative. I just want to do something without having to resort to, oh I don't know, thinking.
I've heard countless talking heads speak on reducing stress by coloring. I found a couple of articles on Coloring Therapy and decided to give it a whirl. I picked up a couple of books geared towards adults, the usual suspects: Japanese Prints, Erté Fashions, Pat Robertson and Friends and The Cunt Coloring Book. I bought a set of 120 Crayolas but the box didn't come with built-in sharpener like the 64 pack did (or still does.)
I wanted to color one of the Japanese prints first. I found the perfect starter picture to break my teeth on-- not too detailed. I laid on my stomach and started going through the crayon box picking out colors to use with names like: Atomic Tangerine, Fuzzy Wuzzy Brown, Macaroni & Cheese, Purple Heart and Beaver (which of course I snickered at and will use often when I color the va-jay-jays.)
Before a crayon even met the page I started feeling anxious. I thought, I can't do any of these illustrations justice with crayons! I should use color pencils instead. But seeing as my color pencils are locked away in storage-- I reluctantly started coloring.
Not more than fifteen minutes in, my mind was not any calmer than when I started-- the color transference of these crayons sucks ass. I should have waited and used pencils. Wait, I should have transferred this design to a piece of primed MDF and mixed up some tempera paints. God, none of the colors I'm using are authentic to the time period! Who's outside talking so loudly? I wonder if I should try listening to some Enya. Hahaha, nah, I want to listen to Peaches. These prints remind me of trannies. There should be a tranny coloring book. Why hasn't anyone made a tranny coloring book? I should listen to Amanda Lear and I should create a tranny coloring book.
Coloring made me tired, tired of thinking, so I put the book away and went to bed. Coloring is a seemingly innocuous activity, yet of course I have a rather glum story I began to remember as I tried to fall asleep.
Cue fog machine and start dream sequence.
When I was in the first grade many assignments included coloring a picture. I wasn't a good colorer because I couldn't stay within the lines. Conformity is a skill I never have developed.
well 
*by my account anyone with a sense of humor like this is a genius.
