Adult Coloring . . .

Well, well, well . . . it seems the rest of you "adults" have come around to something I'm 37 years in to knowing - coloring (with crayons (my preferred medium) or colored pencils (all the rage)) is awesome for alllllll of us.

I really appreciate this recent phenomenon in pop culture (which, to be clear, is not new - I was rocking the "Legends of Hip Hop" coloring book in 2000 (now being reprinted - thank you, Kickstarer) and was zoning out in the pages of Dover's coloring pages as an IBMer in 2006. I can honestly tell you that I've never been more than a few feet away from crayons my entire life (they are in my laptop bag, in my desk, in my car, in more than half the rooms of my house, and in my carry on bag when I travel) and that my daughter loves to color has very, very little to do with that.

I'm calmed - pun sorta intended - by the fact that I no longer need to feel like an outsider in the world of wax + paper = happiness but when I hear people talk about coloring as an adult as though their life has actually been CHANGED through it, I get grumpy.

Please let's not let adult coloring be the gluten-allergy of creativity. Some fad that comes along, gets everyone worked up and on the bandwagon and then ruins something otherwise perfectly good (BREAD, folks. BREAD!) for all those who have loved it since, well, childhood.