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William asked to paint this morning. He got out his watercolours, filled a cup with water, found his sketch book and painted. He painted with no thoughts of 'what if this goes wrong'. He painted with no thoughts of 'what if no-one likes this'. He put the brush on the page and made his mark, no hesitating, no doubting. As he mixed colours trying to find the best one for a volcano he talked about why Vincent van Gogh cut off his ear. He wondered if it was because Vincent thought he wasn't very good at painting. I watched him silently hoping that he would never lose his ability to create without fear of judgement, fear of being wrong, fear of self doubt.
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