One more little bird joins this acrylic painting flock today.
In the online 31 in 31 community I host each year, I’m always struck by how often a creative practice hits a wall. Several of our poets have written poems about not being able to write a poem. Visual artists have shared variations of the same frustration: “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get this one thing right.”
It feels as inevitable to creativity as rain is to weather. Sometimes it’s an afternoon shower—brief, refreshing, gone before you’ve fully noticed it. Other times the storm lingers, turns the yard to mud, and cancels all our plans.
What moves me most is the way this group keeps going anyway. How they weather both the small setbacks and the bigger storms, showing up again and again for their work.
Today’s offering is another small one. This weekend, I chose to spend long stretches on the sofa watching football and sitcoms with my stepson, home from college. Rather than fighting with paint—which has felt increasingly combative lately—I let myself take a breather.
I like to think today’s little bird—a prothonotary warbler, painted in acrylic—is doing the same. Resting. Pausing. Gathering itself before whatever comes next.


