scared

     When the world becomes too big, dark and lonely, colors in the

realm scare fears in the eye.

burried

...and as you look down at the cold, cold ground I'm sleeping in. 

Don't expect to hear me say that I still love you then 

'cause I'll be over you when the grass grows over me.

pulled

In the foggy place of memories

Pulled my knees to my chest

And never allow it to close back up again.

layered

     Everybody’s future always begins now. It doesn’t matter if you’re too far ahead or he is too far behind. What matters is that we look at life through rose colored glasses. An artist’s life for example starts the moment you pick up that brush and open that can of paint. It’s not a routine that you have to start and work up some change at a particular time of day. There is no intention of beginning tomorrow in each and every hour we are given. Anything can start anytime, here and now.

     We all have to choose to choose. Every time I hear that egotistical whisper in the back of my head, I stop and listen closely to whatever option there is to consider. And in that conscious moment creative magic happens. Even simple tasks like washing your paint brush can be enjoyable. If you consider taking that option, everything will come down nicely to an artwork using a very clean brush. It may not change your life but it will surely make your work more pleasant altogether.

      You can start slowly, stroke by stroke, layer by layer until you reach that point and say, hey, this is it. I did it I actually did it.