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Self effacing worship, watercolor, A1

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So it was a Saturday afternoon and I was alone in my apartment. I could have gone out and met some friends. Should have gone to my cousins place to see his new baby. I really could have finished some of that work which is going to kill me in a week. Or I could have gone for voluntary work. I could have been to the club and played Tennis. On my way back I could have got my cycle repaired. And once back, I could have done my laundry. At least  I could have finished that book I was reading for over three weeks now…

The list of productive things I could have done on that afternoon that would make my life (or anyone else for that matter) better is endless. I knew this all along and yet I sit down to make this painting. It is not as if the painting is for sale or for any exhibition. Only people who would actually see this painting are my roommate, I and a few random visitors to our apartment. Nobody’s life gets any better or worse because of this painting. Absolutely nothing in the world changes because of it. It is as useless as anything can get. And yet, I make this painting and go to sleep happy and contented.

Why this obsessive compulsive painting? Why such blind love? This self-effacing worship!

I am actually asking. To be clear, I am looking for an evolutionary psychology answer.

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P.S: To be fair, painting is far better than sitting idle – at least from a mental health perspective. Last time I was alone and did nothing, I was so bored, lonesome and depressed that I ended up painting on my face. Ironically, the situation was comical enough to set my mood right đŸ™‚

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