Blue Bird – Perched and Pondering

Back in my head again… I imagined a sunny afternoon with my easel set up beneath a tall white gum tree. A bright blue bird perched on a branch, looking unimpressed, as if to say, “Well, what are you looking at? Let’s see what you’ve got!”

I dipped my brush into vibrant blue paint, feeling a rush of excitement. “This is going to be great!” I thought, picturing the final masterpiece. However, as I painted the bird’s plump little body, my mind began to race. “Focus on the bird,” I told myself. “Just the bird.”

Suddenly, I had another thought: should I paint it windy in the background with leaves falling? That could work. “What about an entire series on leaves? I could call it ‘The Leaf Series!’” But then I reconsidered—too obvious. Ooh, ChatGPT might have better ideas! How about ‘Leaf Chronicles’? Thanks, AI!

Oh shoot, the paper is drying… So, I exclaimed, “Okay, bird, let’s do this!” I mixed colours, trying to capture its essence. Meanwhile, I wondered if I should add a background. Nope, I decided to finish the bird first! After all, I wanted to get this done tonight.

Finally, I completed the bluebird. “Yup… not bad,” I beamed at my creation. However, when I turned to the background, dread washed over me. “Ugh, the background. Who needs one?”

Consequently, my motivation plummeted. The white gum tree transformed into a vague outline, and the background became an impressionistic blur of blue and whimsical squiggles. “Impressionism is all the rage!” I declared, feeling both clever and slightly ridiculous.

“Well, it’ll have to be impressionistic… that’ll do,” I told myself, trying to convince both me and the bird. Yet, deep down, that familiar twinge of not good enough crept in. “I could’ve done better.” Taking a deep breath in, I reminded myself to stay with this; it’s okay to have doubts. For now, I decided to create a silhouette for the tree. After all, there’s nothing a black pen can’t fix.

Ultimately, it’s the journey that counts, not just the destination. Plus, I quite liked the squiggles; they were charming.

Meanwhile, the alarm on my phone reminded me it was way past my bedtime. I love my brain, but it would be nice if it didn’t hop around like a kangaroo!

Consequently, I had no mood to pack up the art supplies, so they remained on the table. Creativity doesn’t have to be perfect. Sometimes, messy, chaotic moments lead to the most memorable pieces. I turned to the bluebird, still perched on the squiggles, looking mighty unimpressed. Riding a high from finishing the painting, I didn’t care. Ultimately, I was determined to embrace the chaos of creativity. Perhaps the squiggles and blurs were a reflection of my vibrant, unpredictable mind—a masterpiece in its own right.