Art keeps calling me…beckoning me to fall between the sheets of sketchbook paper…rolling across the surface of a canvas bed, wanting me to soak the surface with passion and paint…but I can’t lie down here.
My heart is frozen in a state of fear and self-denial. I’m gazing out the window, chasing after things that are outside of myself and my natural element. Art calls regardless.
I can feel its phantom touch caress my Imagination, and wild images of us flash by in my Mind’s Eye…but for some reason it won’t translate in the physical.
How do I stop this? How do I change this? How do I allow myself to free-fall into the arms of my lover again?
Art. Loyalty like no other. How could I betray this figure who’s been there since the very beginning?
How do I ground myself in the comfort of creation again? It feels like I’ve lost touch…
Where do I go from here?