Gave up in writing, lost much of interest.
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Gave up in drawing, harshly discouraged.
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Last chance in music, with overflowing inspiration.

How does one describe something that has so much more meaning than anything there has ever been?
I am not able to have one underlying emotion for art.
I am not sure there even is one emotion that i have not faced when
I make, take in, or feel some type of art.
It is everything to me.
"Art is the only way to run away without leaving home."
When I make any piece of artwork, it takes me away,
and I have never had that feeling other than when
I have a paintbrush or pencil between my fingers.
When i need to stop my own little world and get away from everything, I make something.
Art seems to be the only form of communication
I desire to use when showing emotions.
I get anxiety when i have to show so much vulnerability as to do something as simple as /talking/ to someone about my problems.
If I could just show someone my artwork instead of speak,
I would choose that any day.
"She is delightfully chaotic;
a beautiful mess.
Loving her has been a splendid adventure."
I guess in some ways i see art as a person.
The only true love I have ever really felt would be with art.
I have been hurt many times and I have always
turned to art because of it.
Shes always been there for me,
while others have let me down time after time again.
Yet she waits there patiently everyday
until I pick up the sketchbook
and draw.

paintbrush flows,  patterns unfold
occupied hours, the doors closed
hidden in plain sight
both a comfort and a weekness until
little black tablets make a colored world
turn down transparency so you can be seen

on the screen colors
are arranged so
rainbow connections
bring you closer to who you truly are
so embrace your new found colors
in this colorless existence

make a new layer
draw another line
pixel by pixel it all comes into place
blurring into existence
pixie wings and pictorial symphonies
swing open closets
I'm coming out