A Childhood Coloring Book Memory

I loved to color in coloring books as a kid.

It was one of my greatest joys and I believe one of the happy childhood memories that helped inspire me to be an artist.

My two best friends and I would color for hours on end, choosing from a growing stack of coloring books received for various birthdays, holidays and good report cards over the years. Characters like Scooby Doo, Barbie and anything Disney were favorites.

While we chatted about boys, other friends and of course, boys, we casually leafed through each well-loved book, searching for an un-colored page that might inspire us, a round tin of broken Crayolas in the middle of the table in easy reach of all three of us.

Susie’s creations always made a bold statement, the thoughtful one of the group.

Lori always wore the black crayon down to a nub because she pressed so hard, much to our annoyance.

I was the artistic one that had to shade just a bit darker around the edges to create “dimension” (I was taking art lessons even back then).

On rainy or winter days we gathered in the rec room of Susie’s parent’s house, summers were spent outside in the sunshine on the family picnic table, tall glasses of iced tea at our elbows.

Nothing else was important at the tender age of nine. We had no worries or concerns to interfere with a perfectly good day of coloring.

I still get a rush of nostalgia whenever I get a whiff of my son’s old box of crayons.

I still color, but now I get paid to do it with colored pencil or paint.

Lori, now my son’s Godmother, is coming over in a few days.

I think I’ll pull out the coloring books… but I may have to buy a few extra black crayons, just in case.

Smiles,

Diane