personal manifesto - Elle

My Personal Manifesto

I find beautiful disasters and organized messes.

I discover planned accidents.

I hear the voice of color and texture.

I understand the ink when it tells me what it’s thinking.

I believe the brush when it says it’s tired and out of shape.

I sympathize with the canvas when it admits it feels empty and lonely.

I feel the button, when it won’t click.

I smile with the messages written on the foggy window.

I see the waves of heat from the lights as they focus on their subject.

I smell success after all nighters in the studio.

I admire the hand after a masterpiece.

I crave the salivating sweetness of a freshly frosted cupcake.

I listen to footsteps as they beat a rhythm down the sidewalk.

I fiddle with the feelings of confusion.

I ponder the ideas of the artists.

I question the shadows stretched across the walls.

I fear not knowing, and not finding.

I wait for the award of patience.

I desire reaction.

I grasp the lens as it slides into position.

I dream of realities and impossibilities.

I seek the limits of the imagination.

I push the thread through the edges of imperfect fabric.

I lift the worry from the employer.

I speak with faith and religion.

I tell the story of stress and dedication.

I ride out the storm till its end.

I realize when late, gets too late.

I choose to make things happen.

I help engineer the magic of a rainbow.

I swear to never swear.

I confess to imperfectness.

I anticipate the evils of the unbelieving.

I accept I may have no control over any situation.

I scratch at the goose bumps raised on my arms.

I know art will always be in my soul.