Why don't you just grow down?

Anyone ever told you to grow up? Tell them to feck off, it's not nearly as fun.

On Sunday I bought a pack of 24 Crayola Crayons—best decision I've made in a long time.

Cracking open the packaging and looking at the waxy arrangement of colours took me back decades. I've just finished formal education – after 18 years of it – and the first thing I want to do is pretend to be a child again; I don't always want to be an adult and this was the ultimate escape.

I started drawing stupid shapes, weird animals and things that I haven't seen since my days of primary school; the things I would imagine in my subconscious state otherwise named 'Vincent LaLa Land'. I made a hoover cat, a party hard pig and various nonsense creatures. It was marvellous.

For the first time in years, I was making things with no plan, without a care and with sticks of colourful wax. As far back as I can remember I've always received the feedback that I over-think things and spend far too much time on irrelevant things and this did not change with my feedback for the final semester of my final year. I was told by my tutors that I over complicated things, over-intellectualised most my work and just made things far more than they needed to be—a problem that I plan to defeat. Defeating this devil with the power of crayons was my first step. More coming soon.

Patrica Noodle? What am I talking about.

When you have a crayon in your hand, it's really hard to overthink anything or even think at all. There is an urge to draw silly, naive things. Nobody wants to paint masterpieces with a crayon and they certainly were not designed for anything more than a detailed scribble for mummy to hang on the fridge. You spend your life as a creative trying to learn more and more complicated, complex methods; but why does it always have to ascend that way?

My point here is, once in a while, allow yourself to grow down. You'll love it.

Through all your years of growing up, paying bills and wading your way through education; allow yourself to put down the smartphone and instead pick up a spud gun; put down the fountain pen, instead grab the classic rouge waxy delight.

Puking ghosts and the likes.

It was like a form of liberation, drawing stupid things in big, bold, rough lines. I urge you to grow down once in a while, it'll make you a much happier person. This concludes part one of The Great Walden Decomplexity Program.