On the Canvass:Paragon and Delusion
As a child I used to draw ink form the same well that others used to paint their world.From that well the colors of my world are as vibrant and lively as I could ever want.
I paint my own life ,I was just a dot then .Not knowing what to do or believe.I believe in Father Christmas and angels and even Pinocchio exist out there.
I use the same brush to draw the lines of my senses and values.The same strokes that I use to curve my world.The lines and strokes were strong and seemingly impossible to break.My values and faith then offered an unshakeable foundation.
An innocent child once I had been,I dared to paint my world perfect.There are no jagged edges or sharp edges which could cut my flesh.I draw no pointless spirals, no narrowing roads.Everything is in such a wonderful bliss.Awaiting the day to unfoldnever failing to see beauty.Beauty that colors my world,the smile on my mom’s face and the flowers in the garden.Niceties that is always on the canvas.My canvas a space, they filled with glowing color and every tint that pulse with life.Tints and shades they were ,smile they paint, glee in my bosom they throb,happy i was.My canvass holds my painting.A paragon , a masterpiece,my painting , my once vibrant life.
Then one day a dark cloud came to wash away everything that i worked for.Maybe it was my fault to leave my painting to dry on the sun, but instead the rain showered on it.Drenching the colors and letting them all gash down like blood.Blood that drains the body lifeless.The colors gone,my soul gone.My canvass empty and stark.I tried several times to paint it the same way as I did once, and several times I failed.And still keep on trying only to notice that the colors are not that vibrant anymore.Instead it is gray and dull.the lines arent that perfect anymore.Anymore that i should deserve and havent got.Lines, endless dots and spirals they are now.My painting which was once a paragon now a delusion.