Painter
remembering at 5:20 p.m. on 2003-07-17
It's deep into 2 am, and the bulb from my desk lamp is burning intensely. Aimed against the wall, it casts a circumference of shadows against the pale lavender paint. Below me and above me, the soft humming of my music, fixating me on the translucent vibrations in the room. It moves me.
The taste of incense, the thick texture of paint, that clings to my brush in anticipation. It moves across the canvas board like an extension of my fingertips...pushing through that charge of energy that transforms me into a vessel of emotion.
I close my eyes, feeling the soft resistance. My fingers slipping down from the tip, and into the wet murkiness...as my devotions fall further and further...down into that sea of darkness.
Sweet meditation...I no longer divide the cloth from the paint...the creation from the creator.
In this shadowy room, I am the creation.
never was � never will be
