Painting is good for the soul.
At least it's good for my soul.  Last night I painted for the first time in almost a year.  I didn't actually realize how deeply I had missed it until I could smell the turpentine and the paints.  Forgetting homework and a variety of other responsibilities I painted well into the night.  Spreading color on canvas is cathartic.  Refreshing to have enough energy left in my body to paint after a long Monday of class and rehearsal.  Not brimming with energy, but the type of energy that says, I'm tired but I'm gonna do this thing anyway.  Tonight is the night to make up for lost sleep, but the painting is worth an occasional late night.  I wish I could paint all day instead of grading papers, solving math problems, and writing cover letters.