Imagination ain't your only friend [open]
He had juggled more things than this. In light of where he could be - prison or the shipyards - he was more than happy to take another half-shift for his roommate, or remind Spock that his eating/sleeping plan was atrocious (really, didn't Starfleet teach him anything?), or make that custom cake for a chief officer's birthday.
But he was a primarily selfish individual, as most organisms were, and he needed some time to be just that: individual, autonomous, and self-satisfying.
It took some work and a cherry tootsie pop for his brother to get the replicators to give him some good, old-fashioned paper, synthesized just like the brush-pulp from Vulcan, rough and lightly browned. It took even more work, and then a walnut fudge brownie, to give him a sturdy pencil, and only then could he settle down in one of the lounges with a sigh and a smile. This was a comfy couch.
Now - what to draw?
But he was a primarily selfish individual, as most organisms were, and he needed some time to be just that: individual, autonomous, and self-satisfying.
It took some work and a cherry tootsie pop for his brother to get the replicators to give him some good, old-fashioned paper, synthesized just like the brush-pulp from Vulcan, rough and lightly browned. It took even more work, and then a walnut fudge brownie, to give him a sturdy pencil, and only then could he settle down in one of the lounges with a sigh and a smile. This was a comfy couch.
Now - what to draw?