Do you ever feel lonely after finishing a book? Either reading or writing one? I always do. Perhaps it’s because I read such long books. I finally read Dickens “The Old Curiosity Shop.” I don’t recommend it – it wasn’t that good – but the character development was good enough that I miss the people. It’s hard to switch gears into a new story.
I have a similar feeling about the drawing class I just finished. Last night we went out to the arts club, and I found myself sitting with a new mom, an artist (the teacher) and a writer. It just occurred to me that it was like sitting in the fork of my own path. I could go any or all of those directions. I got so much consolation just listening to their perspectives on life and society. It was exactly where I needed to be.
A 180 from where I was on Sunday. “Remind me…why do we need people?” I guess contrived socialization sometimes grates the introvert. People often encourage me to involve my art more in our community, so I decided to work on my charcoal drawing at the beach. I almost got hit by 4 frisbees and a softball.