Sometimes, when I’m exceptionally tired or cold, I feel like painting.
Unfortunately I can’t paint for shit, so that kind of sucks.
Nevertheless I have these beautiful images emblazoned across my mind, impossible images; a softly pink, burning sky flooded with words. A sea so deep and so cold that it is black except where touched, and from the tip of that long, spindly finger glorious greens and blues and silvers pour. A sweetly glowing crescent moon. Heat waves on a summer afternoon, electricity in the sky.
Sometimes, when my mind is full to bursting with these images, I decide to paint them out.
Not with watercolours or acrylics though. I use words.
The best part is that I don’t even have to write a thousand words, as the cliché goes. Because once I get past a certain point, your imagination will do the rest for me.
A picture paints a thousand words. But a few words and an imagination paint the most beautiful pictures in all of non-existence.
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