I gave up when I lacked the eraser to fix my mistakes. I put the pencil to the paper but it scribbled out all wrong and I knew it would before I began, because my heart was already singing a sad song. It seems I have forgotten to remove myself from what I create. However they say art does not define a creator but is that not what a creator is. Is a creator not born as art? Does a creator not bleed color spilling from every cut open vein caused by past pain? The blood spills and flows onto the page to be played with. The emotion with every word or every brush stroke. So I am...