I had three days of terrible tummy during which I did not art. On the fourth day, I decided it was time to get a basket and fill it with goodies to keep by my couch, because if there’s anything worse than feeling poorly, it’s feeling too poorly to art.

What’s in my basket?

A container of gesso
A container of matte fluid polymer medium
A tin of Caran D’Ache Neocolor II
A tin of Caran D’Ache Neocolor I (metallic)
A pair of scissors
A glue stick
A travel pack of baby wipes
A Cotman travel watercolor kit
A box of sample-size Golden fluid acrylics (the starter pack of 8 colours)
A collection of black pens
A white pen
Some brushes
A bottle of water
A rag
A General’s Sketch and Wash pencil
A 2H pencil, sharpener and kneaded eraser
A roll of paper towel
A Moleskine Sketch
Beside the supply basket is another basket full of magazines and junk mail in case the collage bug hits me.

If I stretch a little I can reach my tote full of mark makers, too, so at any given moment I can reach in to that and grab a Copic marker, a Sakura Gelly Roll, a Prismacolor pencils, a Pitt pen, some charcoal or one of my favourite purple Bic pens.

Here’s the thing: 

I had a lot of time to think while doubled over with weird tummy-ness, and I came to some conclusions.

My life revolves around Wild Precious. I eat, sleep, breathe, and dream Wild Precious. I find myself trying to leverage whatever I do so that it somehow serves Wild Precious.  This isn’t about money. It’s about service. Y’all know that the majority of what I do, I do for free, and I love what I do. LOVE it.

But the truth is, all this living breathing eating sleeping WPS means I am not meeting my own need for plain and simple fun-for-me.

~I need to do more art for the sake of it

~I need to accept that this is a *spiritual practice* for me and if all I ever do is ‘work at it’ then I’m skipping the spirit part and I end up with an empty well

~I do what I love, yes, but if I do it to the exclusion of everything else (as I have been) I will grow to resent it.

Couch Art is the practice I’ve undertaken as a result. It is unscheduled. It is not a commitment. It has nothing of ‘work’ in it. I will not record it for posterity. I will not leverage into work for Wild Precious. It is as sacred as going to Temple or Church. It is mine.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll never share it. :)

Reclaiming art for me and only me means I can fill the well on my own and come back into the world all full of juicy goodness. It means I can come into that sanctuary with my head on straight, my heart wide open, and my smarts engaged.

It might take me a little while to recover from tummy troubles (and a pretty nasty case of resentment flu ~ I wonder if they’re related!) but I *will* recover. And Couch Art will be a big part of my healing process.