A class assignment that was simply to write a poem or prose about ourselves. |
The musings of my mind By Alice My paintbrush glides across the desolate white landscape It’s thousands of bristly arms, reaching out, Caressing, Imprinting, In thousands of colors onto the canvas, The home of my vivid imagination. My wrist flexes in fluid motions creating lines that flow Like my element, water, rising in arcs, dipping, swirling, like a steady current. Creating the scene that stood so brightly in my mind. The scene called to me begging for its birth, So who was I to refuse it? Contrary to common sense, my eyes were closed as I painted, In order to see the delicate lines my mind drew and to copy them That was my job, an outlet for an over creative imagination, To succumb to its ecstatic demands. And to create the art I know I can Because I create, Therefore I am an artist. Days pass And the vivid pictures have returned to cause havoc in my mind, To demand their creation once more, Though this time, they want to be in writing. Of course I cannot refuse them, so I allow the abomination of my delicate ego. I take a pencil in my hand and allow the ideas to surge my brain. Finding just the right words for just the right expression, in just the right sentence. I do not follow the petty rules created by those Who have never surrendered to their imagination. Instead I follow the rules of those like me, Who draw what they dream and write what their heart sees. The rules consist of one, and only one rule: Construct what you want with whatever you want and do not be ashamed. For everyone is an artist, Even if all they can draw are disproportionate stick figures And all they can write creatively is a title for writing someone else did, It is in you all you have to do is listen. Which brought me to where I am today, An artist A writer Me. |