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