There were roses everywhere. Now they are almost gone and withered away from the heat and rain. I’m glad I’ve been taking little snapshots of them when I’m out and about, I love how their petals resemble tiny hearts. I saved a few and pressed them in the pages of a book. Others I just held in my hand to feel their softness and absorb their fleeting fragrance until they get all sweaty and transparent and they are not so pretty anymore. My hands open and they fall to the sidewalk in a withered little ball.
I’ve been trying to work on small things recently so all won’t be lost. Because of time constraints and my terrible attention span (amongst many other things) it’s hard for me to dive into my paintings like I used too. So to get in the swing of things I’ve just been painting silly little patterns and petals in my sketchbooks. I always have grand painting ideas in my head that usually stay there for awhile then I get overwhelmed and then they kind of dissipate. Like forever. I need to do more sketching I think. To capture images at least, even if my grand schemes amount to absolutely nothing.
“There is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.”