I woke up this morning and decided to paint something on my orange accent wall. While I can be creative, the grandiose world of fine art has eluded me thus far, as my stick figures keep turning out to look like mops and broomsticks. As a result it’s rather sloppily done, but I forgive myself of any lack of acute artistic ability by finding perfection in wholly imperfect things. In short, it’s messy but it works. So for three hours I painted feverishly with ‘Across the Universe’ radio on Pandora by my side, a bowl of blueberries that were just the perfect amount of ripe (they must bounce 5 inches off the floor), and a gentle breeze from the windows that mitigated a hot…