the ones that constantly play on my mind, now etched inside his head he'd make you feel profound things converting a blank page into a room full of thoughts and visualizations waiting to be filled with intention by the way his fingertips graze over canvas strokes, hues, and lines every exquisite detail the lead scraping across the paper shadows that protrude the overall portrait contemplating to contrast the grays forming vivid illustrations no one would ever envision the paper comes to life before my eyes it's like he never had to use his own hands to touch each & every part of me i only see him in monochrome but he penetrates me with all kinds of hues
i hope he realizes that he himself, is art. my art.
I wandered by the wayside till I wore out my traveling shoes. I stopped and smelled the roses, it seemed to be that time was mine to lose. But when the thorns drew blood, I saw how little time I had to choose To pluck the rose, or bleed out with The rosebud blues
Each stroke of my charcoal pencil, Scraping against paper, Scratched out yet another scar Masking my feelings As they bled on paper- Black rivers running scarlet, And locked it there, A dam brimming Unleashed, Wiped off, in a brave Attempt to never Be uncovered again, Sunken Under alluvium.
Nipped the brush, picked the paint, let the canvas fill Oh my crush, like a saint, keep your head still Let me first, draw the sketch, what a cute face! Body next, let me fetch, lovely gaze and grace Lines are made, streaks of color, your portrait is good Bit of shade, made it duller, a monkey in woods.
“Taking photos is not allowed here”, said the caretaker. I, at first thought, “I'm not a traitor” . I move ahead and observe the event. Things appear like there is a revenant. Not even a single picture, but I was printing better than the 3D- printer. . I can make as lively a sketch, as it comes out of the white; but the same feeling I cannot transfer, unless the recipient sees the outline. . I can talk to you on a video call, but you know it right? The increase in one dimension, affects my sight. . We are taking photos of important events; but we try to ignore the bad clicks. We are using our eyes to see the bad, but our camera to see the sketch. . But deep down we understand that we can develop the camera; but not sensitivity. The picture always looks better in reality, than in the gallery. . #My_Writings @mywritings.emotions on facebook