Hoarding my kids used pencil crayons
I’ve seen the books in stores. It kind of makes sense. There seems to be a collective nostalgia these days. Everything old is new. After all, colouring is old for all of us adults, we did that when we were kids.
Except, I had a misspent childhood. Most things that children find fun, I wanted to race through to get to the next version. I couldn’t wait to become older and do stuff that bigger kids were doing. I even wanted to be an adult, when I was quite young. A serious adult. Not the kind who sits around colouring.
I remember colouring, of course. But the paper was thin, we mostly had wax crayons that didn’t have sharp points. I had 2 younger sisters whom all supplies were shared between. So the perfect colour might not be available when you wanted it, or used up entirely. The shapes in colouring books were kind of basic, so your arm ended up being sore from all that repetitive motion. It seems like I didn’t like colouring so much.
Or maybe I did. I tended towards exaggeration as a child. Clearly my memory of colouring logistics is intact. But what did it feel like? This I don’t really recall.
Late last year, my Aunt gave me an adult colouring book called, “Lost Ocean” by Johanna Basford. On the inside, she wrote – “Christie – sometimes – just have fun! Love Auntie Lin”. I honestly didn’t know what to think. But, like everything I’ve tried lately, I decided to go “all in”. I bought myself a set of 48 colours of pencil crayons. Good quality, all lined up in a row, in little trays in the box.
So I gave it a go. I do remember colouring, it turns out. I smiled as I pulled out the colours and carefully shaded in the shapes. I remember it made me feel happy. That’s all. Who would have thought that I would go so far to be young again, now that I am an adult!