I am an artist.
I never chose to be but as long as I can remember art was near,
There was no first meeting, no awkward first impression.
It was always right there.
Art is a part of me, a quality written in my biology it’s my personality.
I can’t escape the urge to create,
To illustrate the beautiful picture in my mind,
To encapsulate feelings, project ideas, perfect a masterpiece.
I am an artist I paint;
I paint in hues colors and strokes.
I paint in words sewn together as delicate as a feather,
Yet as painful as a healing wound.
I cower every time I hear them being read aloud
Because these words are windows straight into my thoughts.
Leaving me feeling vulnerable, that’s why some art is unutterable.
Best portrayed using a paintbrush.
Coating the canvas with every color of the spectrum and every spectrum of emotion. Watching the pigments flow with no resistance,
A brush sweeping softly or with deep solid strokes
Always flawless because creativity can never be mistaken
It only awakens new perspectives perfected by the artist
Portraying her ideas precisely.
I am an artist because losing my self in art is my passion,
A distraction, imagine the endless horizons.
Art is the closest thing to magic,
A paintbrush the closest to a wand,
And an artist the closest to becoming an enchanter.