Perhaps, it is a thing I picked up as a child – my dad could chop any vegetable into the smallest cubes possible and my mum could actually create paper thin noodles out of cabbage! I would wake up the crushing of veggies under the knife on a wooden board and find myself aimlessly staring at the art of chopping. Every morning I got lost in this space.
Precision, concentration, perfection!
I get so pumped-up by these things even today, much to the dismay of all the others that I live with, who dont understand the small and perfectionist universe that I grew up in. However, I have accepted that the world is very different from our little cocoon.
My medicine for destressing, today, happens to be – detailing; it gives me a calm that I almost cannot explain. I do run a movie or a talk show as I draw, but as I get to the smaller strokes and hatchets it all fades away – the noises outside and inside my head. My body feels light as a feather. The more I feel this, the more I crave it – the weightlessness.
As I lift off my pencil from paper it jumps back in and by the time my mind prepares to understand the voices it disappears again. Almost like magnetism!
At the end of it all is a certain adrenaline rush for a fraction of a minute – a quiet happiness that is the most sensational feeling in the whole wide world! Does that happen to all of you art lovers?