Let me touch your lips

Normal people spend their Fridays drinking and partying... or at least hanging out.
What did I do?
I drew.
No, I painted.

Now, keep in mind, the only painting "lessons" I've ever received in my life have been two or three Bob Ross episodes I watched on PBS when I was in elementary school.
I know all about "happy little trees" and whatnot.
What Bob Ross did was oil paint. That stuff is expensive!
For a newbie like me, I went acrylic... especially since I can easily clean that junk off... we all know how clumsy I am. I'd probably have oil-paint stains on random body parts for months if I went the other way.

Anyone who asks who this is gets STABBED.
I LOATHE that question

There.
The skill of a fifth grader, so don't judge (plus, other than here, NO ONE is allowed to see what I draw, because I feel stupid sharing. So feel special).
I gave it a painfully long title: Let me touch your lips, let me see where you're at, in honor of one of my favorite songs, The Wallflower's "From the Bottom of My Heart."
Technique? What the hell is that? I just acted like a kid with a coloring book (crayons are so much easier).
I must say, though, it was quite relaxing. I was just beating up the brush on the canvas and it was making me smile. I finished with a smile on my face.

I've been trying REALLY hard to pound the sadness out of my heart... and so far, I've been kind of successful. Gyming it up, hiking with the bestie and laughing at ridiculous lyrics and cussing as we get lost on trails (one day, ONE DAY we'll get it right! haha), leaving the house just for the sake of getting some sun.
But there's still that bit of... that feeling of loss. The feeling of being lost and not knowing where to pick it all back up and keep going.
I can say that when I'm drawing-- now painting-- those repetitive motions, they make me feel better. I'm in my own little world (you know, the part that wasn't destroyed by that nuclear bomb that was the grad school rejections) where I'm actually happy, and nothing really matters. It's a really strange feeling in my chest.

I'm such a freakin' hippie.