As a toddler, I dreamt in colour, red, blue, purple, and yellow
All united into one, like the carebears, all one yet they each did their part in the group, their spark, their magic their individuality
As a kid, all I envisioned and listened to was songs in colour, red, blue, purple,pink, yellow, brown, and black – the smoky erriness towards the night shades, stars crawling out of hiding like dust sprinkling in unity with the clouds… all belonging
As a teen- I struggled to see any colour besides the grey paint… drying out all the dreams that I thought to believe in… reality suddenly hits
There’s no such thing as a Santa Clause or the Tooth Fairy. Parents aren’t as perfect as I thought to be, and yes, the body starts changing-growing-evolving uncontrollably because that’s life
As an adult- I urn and search for colour- I make it, I breathe it, I paint it… no more sorrow, I worry, yes, but I still paint no matter how much strength it takes- producing… mixing and mashing up colours I could never dream of into existence.
I salt more spark to the fire, blow dust into seasoning… sprinkling, eventually flying high… no gravity could contest to
Night skies… a black shade… more dark, radiating such stunning beauty more than I could ever imagine
The air is as crisp and pure as water… quenching the core to my soul
The blue skies are hollow, bright, free, and all full of glee as the doves fly amongst red balloons
As I paint- I see the good, bad, grotesque, beauty, pain, glory and healing… death and life, but it is what it is… art
I see it all, and I’m grateful for such a sight because I know that I can create that change as the brush colours the blank canvas in every corner, block, manufacturing more textures and emotions
As I paint, I continue to make art and search for that magic I know is still here
Cookies, Coffee & Poetry 