When I was little--maybe not too little--5th grade, maybe--my mom got me these incredible colored pencils for Christmas. I think there must have been 40 colors. All the shades I could imagine. And these pencils could be blended and used with water to change the texture and feel of the drawing.
I don't know what happened to the wonderful ones mom bought for me. Next time I'm at my mom's house I'm going to hunt for those pencils.
Now don't let me fool you into thinking I'm any kind of artist. I can't draw a stick figure.
But give me a drawing, and I'll color it in like nobody's business. I love colored pencils--and crayons, for that matter--for all the shades and textures you can show. A colored pencil is powerful!
My love of color and texture doesn't stop with the pencils. Put me in a needlework store with a painted canvas and I'll give it every shade and texture the thread can imagine.
Now I have my own set of colored pencils. Mine are simple Crayola pencils with just a few colors. But they are mine. Nobody else can use them. Shoot, nobody else can even touch them.
My colored pencils are my release. Sometimes I just think about the fact that I have them. I don't even have to take them out of their hiding place. I just imagine the possibilities they hold. I know it sounds crazy, but they're a breath of fresh air.
That's the power of a colored pencil. Go get your own!