The evening is warmer than it has been in recent weeks. Even still, a cool draft from the window catches the heat from the coffee cup sitting on the end table, and swirls the steam up towards the vaulted ceiling of our town home.

Resting on the arm of the sofa, I set the laundry basket down and watched the swirl of steam float up the stairs like our very own little ghost.   Taking the coffee in hand, I sip it -savoring the quiet of the house and the beauty of the tree outside my picture window. This evening, its angled arms are set against a cloudy sky; a relief in deep to light charcoal reminding me of the Piet Mondrian's 1912 cubist painting, Grey Tree.
     Another sip of coffee and my mind drifts off.....remembering how D.H. and I discovered this little town-home in Oak Haven Heights barely two summers ago. Something about this town-home captured the artistic spirit that only appears when decorating the house for the holidays. One evening while taking a break from unpacking I decided to organize a few potted plants on the deck. I saw The Tree! For no reason whatsoever, I sat down to sketch and color a simple image of  The Tree in all it's summer greenery. I chalked it up to the influence of the adult coloring therapy trend.
     Still, that tree has become the object of my affection. Whenever, I need a moment to still the hurried day I find myself gazing at it and enjoying how it stands as a sentinel on the street corner, watching over us. The need to capture it artistically just wouldn't go away.  But how? Then came the day that I unpacked the knitting box-and found yarn in exactly the colors of The Tree. Suddenly, I found myself graphing my summer tree sketch, viewing Youtube videos on knitting with more than one color, and, to my surprise, actually knitting The Tree. Autumn followed and another knitted portrait of The Tree came off my knitting needles. Now, as I gaze out at The Tree....


The grey sky suddenly transforms itself into a white sheet of paper upon which I am certain a charcoal sketch of the tree will perfectly capture the shading on the tree. Graphing the thick tree trunk for a knitted pattern
will not be difficult, however capturing the thinner branches near the top will be a challenge. Would embroidered accents work?   A final sip and he coffee is cup empty. My little ghost of steam has snuggled in with the cat whose snores drift down the stairs from the second floor bedroom. Time to finish folding the laundry. Still, when that is done there could be time to sketch, just a little, before starting the Chicken ala King dinner. Smiling, I head up the stairs..

 Have you ever had a day when it dawns on you that you are an unrealized artist?  Something sparks that creative spirit within and sends you reeling down the isles of your local craft store plucking every beautifully displayed project pull sheet, and related craft materials, off the shelves, into your basket, and out the door to your home for hours of deeply satisfying crafting therapy.
      Traditionally, the blame could fall on the shoulders of the parents. They who sent you, on every Christmas break, spring break, and summer break, to every arts and education camp they could find. So delighted in the result, they snatch the completed projects from young hands and sent them hither and yon as gifts for relatives and friends. To this day the first thing that comes to mind when a project presents itself is, "Well, who would I give it to?'
    Additionally, the economy could be to blame -that which sent you to join the ranks of the "makers and doers". Complex home repair projects blend with the simple task of mending a tear the seam of a shirt.  YouTube videos and Pinterest boards become the go-to reference  even serving as delightful talking points at parties.
     Then again, blame is, perhaps, too strong a word. Rather, it is the realization that, in Elder Uchtdol's words, "The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul." When did you realize that you were an unrealized artist?