It’s funny, really, that a book like “Atlas Shrugged,” which glorifies industry and production and man’s inventiveness should make me want to fill my life with art, literature, and great music like it has.
I’ve been so extraordinarily busy lately, with work, school, and homework that I barely have two hours in any day for anything. So, I read that marvelous book, which then swirls in my head for the rest of the day. It won’t let me go.
But it has made me realize that my life, full of present moment concerns and responsibilities, is suddenly a bit grey. And not that there’s anything wrong with grey, lovely color, but you can’t have a life of grey any more than you can have a wardrobe. No color, and you lose the excitement, the joy, the brilliance, and, eventually, the meaning.
So, after starting Atlas and being awakened to so many things, I suddenly craved color with my whole being. To see it, use it, feel it, taste it, live it. I sat down, grabbed my pastels, and drew the brightest spot I could in a few minutes.
Not that I have any more time for anything, but just a renewed attitude and a spurred motivation to rise above exhaustion from overwork and stretch myself to be energetic for everything.
Also, my wardrobe is full of dull, grey-ish colors. Nice colors, but very, very dull. But not any more. I went and bought meself a lovely, BRIGHT blue skirt from Urban Outfitters. Life of color, here I come.