I paint.

For so long I have stood at a distance and wanted to paint. I decided (with the wonderful urging of my husband) that I should give it a go. I went to the paint store, stocked up on what I thought I would need and waited for inspiration. The inspiration was not what I thought it would be. After watching Dateline's coverage of the Taylor University accident and mix-up I felt my emotions being stirred and needing to have some outlet. So I painted. I painted the emotion I can recall from the night in the chapel when they read to all of us the names of those who had died. I painted the beauty of the families that stood in the power of God as they watched their lives change for forever. I painted and though I am far from gifted at this point I loved what I created for the mere reason that it was mine. The first picture is from that experience, the second one is small but is from something that had been going on within my family. I love it because the red balloon of hope....it does always rise.