the yellow pencil

I bought a set of special colored pencils a couple years back, I don't remember where, but they have worked well for me and the kind of art I do. Even when several broke in two one day soon after I bought them, it just meant there were more of them!

The yellow pencil remained whole, and it added courageous heart to works that were incomplete, or fractious. Heart on fire is how I thought of it.

I say thought - as in the past tense - because although I used it today, carrying it about in my fabric bag - I cannot find the yellow pencil tonight. It'll likely show up, but I'm learning something here. There is mourning I feel over a pencil, or over a paintbrush that (with its unique wear and tear, weight, and paint patterns) leaves the table for good. It's worse than losing a favorite word in your vocabulary, or a favorite skillet in the kitchen. The painting and drawing are a passionate process. As oddball as it seems, I'm connected to this yellow pencil.