To be honest, I haven't done the drawing or painting, at least not yet.
Instead, however, I have spent part of today writing short poems and playing with my uncle's dog, who's been staying at my house this weekend. Though playing with my uncle's dog obviously doesn't qualify as creative or as an art form, I feel that doing it had gotten me back--maybe not completely, but at least partially--in the artistic perspective. Because of my uncle's dog, who we will call Bob, my attention was no longer glued to the TV screen or to eating food continuously in the kitchen (activities that I've done in the house lately, out of laziness of not getting out of the house); rather, as I stood outside in my backyard throwing the ball as hard as I could in order to give Bob the utmost excitement and exhilaration of running on to catch it, my eyes were stretched out and open to the morning air brushing past my face, the rustling of the trees above me, and the uplifting chirping of the birds. It was then when I realized that no romantic comedy can replace the feeling that I was given by all that I experienced, just by the 10 minutes I had spent outside.
Therefore, I owe a lot to Bob for helping to get me out of the terrible new habits. Therefore, after the session with him outside, I was encouraged enough to write the two poems I mentioned earlier. Both poems were literally each just four lines long, but I think it's a good start.
If you're reading this, I hope you're not just donating your time to the actual act of reading the blog, but more importantly offering some support and understanding to get me moving further back to my previously creative state of mind.
Undoubtedly, it's going to take lots of time, effort, and determination, but I'm more than willing to go through all of it and beyond.