Putting color onto the canvas brought a smile to his face and chase away his frustrations
As the white disappeared behind his assured strokes, his happiness grew
It was cathartic to brush in his happy little trees standing tall
Nothing could ruin his mood now
This is where all his mistakes were opportunities
Couldn’t tell the difference between red and blue
Or blue and green for that matter
Looking at everything in grayscale made paint choices easier
Only paying attention to lights and darks
Reaching for his brush he channeled his inner M. C. Escher
Always creating for the sake of creation.
Reality bends to accommodate the totality of new imagination generated.
That might be the source of all the dark energy!
Crayola’s yellow box made his eyes go wide.
Realizing all one hundred twenty colors inside were his to work with.
And that thought had him wondering what he should color first.
Yukon forests? Dragons breathing fire on a horde of gold? Something from the Matrix?
Of course, he could let his imagination run wild and do something totally out of the box.
Next moment he was using a heat gun to make a three-dimensional sunset!
Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance
Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative
The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart
Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted
Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke
Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint
Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life
Revealing light streams over the landscape
Abstract shapes resolve into the finite
Dictating reality to manifest yet again
It warmed her heart every time it happened
As the sun slowly eased itself above the threshold of the horizon
The green flash announcing its next jaunt across the sky
Exciting her eyes with the potential of a new chance, a new day
Orangey-brown tones enriched by scarab poop.
An idea that had to be renamed to be used by the masses.
Know what? Shellac is still pretty awesome.
Damaged and melting within a bright-colored landscape
A juxtaposition of reality and imagination
Leaving one breathless between comfort and discomfort
It is a surreal feeling
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Never Short On Words 