I got up today feel quite ill at ease. Whether it was waking up to the screaming of a 10 yr.-old,"There are ants on the counter!" or caffeine depravation....or some other cause, I felt I need to deal with it or be overwhelmed. I went to take a eary afternoon nap (mind you, it was Sunday), but it wasn't that. At the heart of this feeling were manifestations in my mind and in my head. I could finally pin it down. It was anxiety. Now, as I said, I don;t know where it came from, I just knew I had to deal with it. What I began to do was paint....a canvas. Probably 3 1/2' x 3 1/2' square, it was a challeng to fill. I laid it out on the throw rug obtained off of craigslist just for that pupose, to save the carpet. And I put brush to acrylic and then to canvas. The creative play began, and as Shakespere said,"The play's the thing!", I threw myself into it. When I was through with the painting, I wanted to add more, but there is a time to stop working and survey the work, before continuing. I was pleased and the anxiety was gone. I will remember that serving the Muse is truly nurtuing, and if I hadn't known before and forgotten: healthful. Sometimes being out of sorts requires a Bromo Seltzer, sometimes: prayerful meditation and sometimes it a vacuumous need of out right-brain to be fed. That lusting and ravenous creative spirit demands out attention and needs, requires fulfillment. To ignore it is to internalize it and be in denial of its very nature of expression and letting things out....and to deny who we really are made in the likeness of our Creatior, and therefore....creative.