Peacock Print

I can't remember any bright colours. The only one I remember is the peacock. It was sitting on the tree like it was waiting for me to feed it. It's sitting there, watching me, watching everything. At first I tried to reach for it, but it didn't seem right; I didn't want to touch it. But somehow I did. Its feathers were so soft and beautiful, still wet from the rain that just passed through. Armed with a brush, I begin to paint the peacock. It felt so right holding that paintbrush in my hand because now I have something else to do other than just watch this bird all day long. With every stroke of the brush, every splash of colour on the canvas before me, I began to feel more hopeful. That made me inspired.