Some have their muse,
others have their objects.
But I have the world around me.
Not one thing doesn't make me write or draw.
Not one thing doesn't take me to a new world.
I write
not for others,
but for myself
and others just listen.
Words paint a picture in my head
and my hand starts to flow
like a fast paced river on a windy day.
My mind paints the picture
and my hand describes my meaning.
My adventures come from books
and thus my masterpiece is formed in the crevice of my mind.
The people around me
intrigue me and pull me in to their mysterious worlds
making me create a story
from what I perceive.
The world is my muse and inspiration
because I can find anything to write about
even if it is a speck of dirt free floating in the warm sun.