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Author Topic: Paintbrush  (Read 22 times)
John M
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« on: January 10, 2018, 12:59:37 PM »

the artist swings her brush like a magic wand
on a blank canvass soon to be muddied with her demons and nightmares
dark shades of grey and blue mixed on a pallet with a sad tint of October orange
the cracked reflections in her mind come oozing out the tip of the fine brush
paint spatters with anger at the thought of a vengeful mother and her raging jealousy toward her more beautiful and youthful daughter
surrounded by hanging white sheets in the back room with a hidden door under the staircase she hides from the chaos of that world
her art speaks the only truth she knows
her creativity and passion collide in a colossal dance of dark shades and accents of white shine
the details of her life spilled out for no one to see,
a shy butterfly too afraid of a little summer heat
she pulls the thick wooden handle of the heavy-duty brush from her worn-leather waist belt like a cougar magnum, loading it with the ammo of a super-dense yellowy paste, lifting her hand ever-so slowly, her eyes squint and eyebrows dance as she ponders the destruction soon to come, waiting and building up tension like volcano about to blow its lid....
« Last Edit: January 10, 2018, 01:13:04 PM by John M » Logged
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