There’s thunder. It’s loud and deafening, and I can hear the rain pelting down through the open window. I want more than anything to run out into the night. I’ve moved all my painting supplies to a shed on the property, since it has better lighting that anything indoors.
It’s nearly 1am and I’m going to go paint in the rain. Freedom is beautiful and makes me happy. And the rain makes my heart sing. What I wouldn’t give to hear it every day.