A Wolf's Bane

Catharsis- a release of e motion through an activity, commonly associated with the arts
The first time I ever picked up a paintbrush was on my twelfth birthday. I was given a cheap set of watercolors from my aunt so she could say she bought me something, little did she know that she was giving me the most incredible present I could ever ask for. I remember slipping away from my party, everyone too consumed in conversation to realize my absence. The moment I was in my room, I tore open the small 6 pack of colors, my fingers itching to hold the brush. I didn’t understand it, I didn’t try to, but the moment I felt the flimsy piece of plastic in my hand, it was if all was right in my world. All of my problems slipped away as I placed strokes on the page, disregarding the little bristles left in the colors wake. I had no clue what I was doing, but somehow, in some way, the abstract picture of a wolf began to take shape. His raven black coat was ruffled by a midnight breeze, his head held high as he looked towards the moon. The most striking portion of it though, was the pair of haunting blue eyes that seemed to bore into my very soul. He was beautiful, he was mine…