I did not paint at all this week-end. Or draw, or work on my felted eggs. I read a book, had friends over, saw some sheep being chased by border collies, went to a few galleries and let ideas incubate. I even read a few gardening magazines in anticipation of spring and filling our cottage gardens with veggies and flowers.
And of course, the dogs got a lot of attention, snuggling, hikes and naps. A good week-end of goofing off (no laundry was done either) activates the creative juices. So why do I feel so guilty and lazy?
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