I'm born of words scratched on parchment paper,
fueled by whisky nights, the pen would touch the paper
Spewing the racing thoughts of an unsound mind put into mild eloquence
trying to fit the pieces of this fractured puzzle together
I'm from "adjust your shutter speed,"
and "you can always fix that in photoshop"
the quite sounds of a camera finding its focus
waiting to snap pictures of the ugly made beautiful
I found peace in black coffee
and the quiet whispers of whole milk steaming slowly
pouring like wet paint and making pictures of trees and leaves
in brown espresso. Always unnoticed by the vapid commuter looking for a fix.
My art poured out through scissors and brushes
sculpting hair into the colors and shapes I desired.
Chemical components coming together to turn plain brown into rainbows.
The floor scattered with remnants of what was, mixed in with what is.
I'm from an unstoppable creativity.
The need to create engrained in me from day one.
My art always encouraged by proud parents,
even if they didn't agree with the content.