I used to admire and be mystified when I would hear my musician friends talk about just needing to go play a while. It would be therapy when pissed or celebration when happy, but either way it was a true need that seemed to transform them in a way I wasn't all that familiar with. At least not like that. I think I have found that something as of late though. Getting on the bike and going somewhere in the city. I love to run and I love to paint, but there is a certain difference in the hopping on the bike to get somewhere. The last part is key too. While I love to just ride, there is a decided difference in running out to grab dinner or meet friends or today, grab some paint. I feel so free flying down the street, like nothing else can reach me; ironic being how wonderfully vulnerable I am out there. None the less, my troubles fade after but a block or two. That is a cool thing to have learned.
By the by, today I grabbed 1 1/2 gallons of paint, running socks, energy snacks, and a beignet in my beloved Chrome bag on my old steel frame Bridgestone. Seriously this bag rules!
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