So... I have come to the conclusion that my life is like art. I've mapped out the first blue prints of my life in pencil, lightly just etching the beginnings of my masterpiece. scaled up the design into different shades of light and dark, and as soon as my paint hit the pallet I knew I was going to do great things. with every color choice came a storm, a motion a movement, a time frame, a depth, a shape, a design a beginning and an end. every brush a size, a stroke, a build, a line, a position, and a place. once they merged together to create art, I just knew that life was more than just what I was living in pencil shades... my life in color was the very beginning of something different. I danced and fell in love with another form of art. I sculpted my way into the clay and dug the depths of the earth to find my way to you. I became a mother to a masterpiece and a care taker to a design of divine natural causes. somewhere along the way I failed though, coming to a complete stop. My creative streak without direction, my mind at a loss. I sold my soul to save my creation, but the devil made me his fool. I lost it all on display at the local museam. I watched my life fade to shades of greys again as I sketched my way through space, only to realize that life itself never gave me a break.

© A.M.