Through ideas, art is born... through art ideas are born
Faded pigments of color, Spilled water all over, Torn paper Disaster! Gone the dedication and obsession, The oil that run through my veins, Lubricating and painting The paint that textured my vision.
Once beautiful My world’s now an acrylic illustration Slowly Losing color A child’s play with crayons Image pixelation.
Eyes closed, heart open Shading red, blue, green And everything in between A familiar face emerges Strained and refined Long ebony hair Pastel pale skin Tinted gray lips Highlights over the eyes Dark brown with a sparkle of life.
Mixed artistic expressions, Misplaced intentions Black and white Ink and graphite A coal creation Charcoal manipulation.
The portrait emerges, Independent in thought and mind It lives No more shades No more binds For once it stands out Face bright Beyond the frame and glass Looking torwards the light She speaks out. “Why” as tears roll out.
Her first words are shocking, All my blindfolds fall Transfixed and confused My heart gives way. Why doesn’t she smile?
What a wonderful work of art you have written.
I honestly didn't think of Mona Lisa's painting till the end.
This is beautiful. When i see that painting now i think i will see it in a different light.
beautiful, just beautiful. As I was reading this, the first set of stanza's made me think of an artists/writer that lost his inspiration and is frustrated at his lack of motivation, then as the poem goes on, it seems like the artist has found his inspiration again, only...he is seeing it with new eyes and it's not so inspiring as it once was. It ironically only evokes a mixture of emotion. - definitely just my interpretation