Setting her mug down, she returned inside, the sudden urge to create washing over her. She approached the canvas she’d abandoned weeks ago. Colors swirled chaotically across it, an unfinished expression of emotions she couldn’t put into words.

That’s independent creation, also within a fixed medium… She contemplated, picking up a brush, feeling the weight in her hand. Yeah, okay, I’ll show them how to hack squat.. A soft laugh escaped her at the absurd thought, dispelling some of the self-doubt. Like I said, all you have to do is frame the information in a way that what they wanna do with it just so happens to be what I wanted anyway.

She dipped the brush into a vibrant shade of blue, allowing instinct to guide her strokes. The paint flowed freely, each movement a release.

“Make it count. I’m not being negative… I’m gonna look at what’s in front of me.” She coached herself as she painted, losing herself in the process. “I know you are smart… you are good enough. I want that.”

As colors blended and shapes took form, she felt a lightness she hadn’t experienced in a long time. The act of creating, of pouring herself into a medium of expression, was liberating.

But for me, I can’t do something like that… it just doesn’t feel right. The thought intruded. She paused, stepping back to assess her work. The painting was far from perfect, but it was hers… something that helped her process her thoughts… viewing her thoughts tangibly.

She felt a message from her device, pulling her back to reality. A reminder that time was slipping away, that responsibilities awaited.