When did we become so self-conscious that we are afraid to draw even as a form of self-expression? When we entered teenagehood? Or way back when Adam and Eve took guilt-ridden bites of the fruit that opened their eyes?
Lest we forget we were children once, we should just freely draw, freely express ourselves. There was a time when we didn’t care how our pictures looked and they still made us happy. When stars could be blue and pink, and when hearts were so full of joy they could not be filled with anything except rainbows?