Over the years, I have found myself dabbling in many different hobbies. I am not sure if it is the military brat in me or if it is the way that my mind has just become. No matter what I pick up, eventually it just isn’t enough, and I find myself getting bored and needing something different.

There was a time when I picked up a paint brush. I had a thing for painting florals. I gave water color a try, but that wasn’t my thing at all. It was too hard to control, and was easy to mess up with one wrong brush stroke. Acrylic paint worked best. The colors were easy to blend, mistakes were easily covered, and the paint would dry to last. I put everything I had into it, but soon I grew bored. It was time for a change.

I then found pastels. Once again, there was the beauty in pastels that was amazing. This was more hands on, which felt amazing. I could use my fingers to blend the colors to create something. The pictures I made were soft and the pastels made them delicate. Just like the paint I grew bored and had to find something different.

During my dabbling in art, I also stuck my toes in the photography. It wasn’t me taking the photos though, it was me in the photos. It was different, there was so much more to it. I was the center of attention. It required me to work harder to get further, and it all seemed to be working. In a way, I got bored with that too though. It was nice having hotels and trips paid for, clothes and shoes made just for me, and a variety of pictures. Like I said though, I got bored. I never fully shut that door, and I haven’t decided if it is worth walking through again.

I always had the desire to play learn how to play an instrument, because just like art, there is a sense of beauty in it. In middle school I gave the jambay a try. With my legs wrapped around that drum, and the vibrations under my hands sent chills through my body. It was nice, but short lived. I even attempted the piano. It was softer, and everything flowed so much better. Then I was done with it.

The only thing I have every been able to stick with is running. I’m not a great runner, but I am a good runner. It helps me clear my head, it helps me solve my problems, and it helps me separate my work and personal life. I love to hear the sound of my feet on the ground, the air rushing past me, and my breath deepening. I wasn’t always a runner. I used to hate it, and I used to be terrible it. It’s funny how the things we are worst at are sometimes the things we hold on to.

Lately I have been running myself into the ground. I have found myself with so much going on that I can’t think straight. Between work, school, and everything else going on, it is a lot. I think my inability to grasp those past hobbies was me somehow searching for a way to vent and relax. I don’t know how long it will last, but I hope it is lasts until everything smooths out once again.


Have a good one!



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