As has been well documented, I can’t draw. I can’t paint. I can’t sculpt or etch or do much of anything in the realm of the visual arts. But I have always had a tremendous soft spot for art materials. Well-organized boxes of colored pencils, rainbow rows of watercolors, and little jars of glossy paints have always filled me with such a sense of promise. As have unopened pads of watercolor paper. The blank-space potential they represent is almost enough to convince myself that there is an artist in me just waiting for the right set of tools to come along.

So my day was brightened when FedEx showed up just now and brought a box full of Arches hot-pressed watercolor pads, 14 of them.

I’m guessing that Robbi ordered these for the Affirmations, of which so many remain to be drawn. But I can’t help but daydream for a moment about the wonderful worlds I could create—if only I could draw.