If I were a crayon…
has written something awesome for the newest of linkup collections I have decided to jump in on.
I can do that, can’t i? I can cross-connect linkups and prompts, right? I sure hope so, but even though I know life sometimes has
I often like to rebel and break them.
is another one of those words I am mostly unfamiliar with. I am learning a lot this month.
Well, I don’t really feel all that comfortable using “felicity” in a sentence, in my writing, but life is full of the uncomfortable things. It’s how we grow and develop character.
If felicity means happiness or blissful, then I know of a dream that I love to dream, where I can colour like when I was a child. When I lost the ability to see my beloved colours I tried to look at that as a character building experience, otherwise I would be awash in blue sadness and angry as red red fire.
Now I have writing and words to colour my world with brightness and beauty, but at one time it was the array of colours found in a box of crayons that made me happiest.
If I were a crayon I would be as waxy as can be. I would be proud that I can be felt as well as seen, unlike all those coloured pencils, also known as pencil crayons.
If I were a crayon I would be red because red is so powerful. It’s Christmas and Valentine’s Day and love, passion, and anger.
If I were a crayon I would be as bright as bright could be, as to be visible to everyone, no matter what. My bright red would share the blank slate with blue of the sky and of the water. All those yellow/orange/pinky skies would be drawn wide, as far as the eye can see.
If I were a crayon I would be a brown tree trunk with the greenest of green leaves. I would be a black car on a grey highway.
I would be one of those scented crayons, as well as colourful. I would be red cherry, purple grape, and brown chocolate.
Waxy under fingertips. Sweet smelling, or smelling like wax. Bright and colourful. Just don’t try and take a bite out of me, even if you’ve remembered to peel back my paper wrapping. Yuck!!!
If I were a crayon, the magic box would make colouring with a child, more than just possible, for someone who missed my colours so so much. Not all who once coloured with me still can. It’s not fair, in my crayon’s view, that a simple colouring session with a niece or a nephew who loves to draw has to be missed out on. Scribbles are beautiful, done at any age. I would tell those who don’t think so that it is so, not to let anything stop them, that they don’t need to miss out.
If I were a crayon, colours would be seen by everyone. In a world of vibrant orange and peachy peaches, our power as colours is so strong, you could see us from space.
If I were a crayon, yellow suns, pink hearts, rainbows of many colours, there’s no boundary to our magic in the hands of those who truly believe in the force of a crayon to make children and adults alike smile.
I am aware, as a crayon, of the comeback of adult colouring books and I sit in my box, along with my friends, so proud to be crayons, just waiting for the chance to make my mark on a page or two.
Just picture the felicity of holding me in your fingers again. In other words, pure bliss. So very peaceful.
Crayons and character. Crayons have character. Crayons are characters, as one budding writer says so beautifully:
And “Felicity” is brought to you by
Ah, here’s to colours and words.
If you were a crayon, what colour crayon would you be and why?