My niece picked up a hula hoop yesterday and rocked it with apparent ease, a big ol' satisfied smile across her face as it went round and round. Of course, it eventually wobbled its way down around her ankles, but she picked it back up - her grin never fading - and gave it another go. In my head I was thinking, "she's so talented." Outloud I said, "I don't have the hips for it."

Then, I remembered all the conversations with people I've had along the same vein about art and reminded myself I'd never given hula hoop more than a couple minutes before losing patience with myself.

With hula hoop, the apparatus has to be available. My niece has access to one, felt that spark, and practiced practiced practiced (also, I've seen her grandma rock a hoop too and grandmas are pretty much the greatest source of spark in the whole world).

The amazing thing about art is the apparatus is everywhere. You can draw in the dirt with a stick, dig through the garbage for sculpture or collage pieces (you don't even need scissors you can just tear!) and things to draw on, bend sticks into nests, stack rocks, paint with just about anything that leaves a stain or scrape and on and on. The only barrier to entry is a big dumb brain that says you must produce something breathtaking for Instagram or some other purpose. Shut that thing off and enjoy the process! That's what it's about.

Next time I'm around a hula hoop I will remind myself that.