Riding on the Backs of Paint Fumes

When I was eight, my family had just moved into a funky home and a plot of land out in the woods. The house needed a lot of work, and one evening my parents called my brother and me into the kitchen. Across the floor, they had spread markers, paints, and chalk. They said the walls were scheduled to be ripped out the next morning, and even the ones that stayed were going to be covered over. They said we could do whatever we wanted to the walls for one night and it wouldn’t matter. We could create anything. Share anything. Imagine anything. And not only would it not matter, but after tomorrow no one would ever know it existed.

It was the first time I had been given the gift of freedom to create without expectation.

I felt immediately and exquisitely alive in that moment. All four of us poured ourselves into the walls of the kitchen that evening. We made beautiful things and funny things. We tempted nightmares, and exposed secrets. We created together and separately. And the thing I remember most about that evening, is that we all felt happy. We felt free. Any feelings of anger, fear, resentment, worry, or anxiety left the house for the evening and allowed the four of us to share in one safe space of expression.

While likely a shaping moment for my life, I can’t say I’ve thought of that memory often. Until Friday night when I gathered with some family and friends that I can never get enough time with. People who fill stolen moments with love, hilarity, and thought.

We were all presented with a garage wall and a tray of spray paint. The only instruction was to fill the wall. That night our collective laughter, imaginations, and stories rode on the backs of paint fumes out of the garage and up into the night sky. A band of raw moments, giggling as they rode their winged horses to dance among the stars.

Free of any expectations other than to live, to create, and to simply be…