Colouring

One of my earliest memories of colouring was when I’d just started school. I was busy colouring in a picture with one of those fat wax crayons we used to use, when one of the boys came up to me and with the wisdom of his 6 years, told me that I had no sense of direction.

I used to be quite good at art later on in my school career and in my 40s went to lessons every Thursday morning which I enjoyed – and my teacher never, ever mentioned sense of direction.

When the children were small I loved colouring pictures in their colouring books for them. When Olivier was three and had his operation for glue ear, I bought him a colouring book and some crayons. He sat in bed and watched while I coloured in the pictures before his op. It had a calming effect on both of us.

Going back 12 or 13 years when I was teaching problem children; I had a stock of photocopies of intricate patterns to be coloured in by those who finished their work quicker than the others. A good way to keep them quiet and occupied while the others finished their work.

 Yesterday Rob and I went to the ‘media’ centre to buy my diary for next year – which they had not got – but I was drawn to a display of intricate colouring books, Inspired by the patterns on the walls of a Hammam. Who needs meditation when you can spend hours lost in colouring in? Well not exactly. I also treated myself to 24 crayola ‘super’tips. Apparently now it’s cool to colour.

I wouldn't have used that purple if I'd have know it would spread that far...

Spiderman reviews all of Crayola’s 96 colours.