Today for the first time in a long time, and I mean a looooong time (3+ years, at least), I picked up a pencil and sketch pad and drew, sketched, created.
Back in the day, drawing was my main activity... I drew all the time. Instead of writing in journals, I sketched in sketch books. I have all of my sketch pads dating back to the very first one I ever used. It was a gift from my Dad. Since then there have been so many more- they fill a trunk. With school ending, I had time to restructure my work space and realized that all of my art paraphernalia had been living on the floor underneath my work bench, patiently waiting for me to make time again.
I cleaned out the area and started looking through some of my sketch pads (some dating back 8 years).
It was a surreal experience looking at old drawings. Some of the drawings showed some pretty decent skill and some stood out as testaments to certain life moments that I was going through at the time.
The strangest part about looking through them was that my hand actually itched, craved to do it again.
So, I started again today. It was a quiet homecoming. I felt reconnected with a part of myself that I have not been connected to in a long time and really missed. But it was also a harsh realization about how much I need to... retrain this skill again. I started college as an art major and had... have fantasies of illustrating children's books and designing costumes. Why, I even used to dream about being an anatomy artist.
I have to say, I am really looking forward to owning this skill again.