light of heart

Why are some days happy days for no apparent reason? Today is one of those days.

I worked too late and slept in this morning.
Zacchi stayed at the neighbours overnight then ran out on the road.
The dishes are still waiting for me.
The paintings are unfinished.
I taught two English lessons instead of one.
It is raining. Lots.
The power bill came.
The car needs to be serviced.
The house needs much work.
The bread has gone stale.
My friends weren't home when I called on them.

But I am happy. Really truly happy. My feet dance even though I don't tell them to. I caught myself singing as I went up the stairs.

I love living here... last night I went to buy matches (to light the gas). It was raining but not cold. A woman with an umbrella was walking towards me. The lights were reflecting on the wet cobblestones in the narrow street. She made an interesting addition to the composition, the perfect picture. I love it.

Do artists have to paint, or can they just enjoy, and call it art?