I feel the soft fabric

Between my fingers.

Colors everywhere,

Reds, greens, blues,

Flowers, circles, trees,

Patterns swirling around me.

I smile and think

How great it would be

To do this every day

And get paid to create.

I smooth the clay with my fingers,

Its slippery surface molding in my hands.

The clay goes from cold and wet

To warm and flexible

As I sculpt the monster’s teeth

And add his long horns across his back I smile.

Someday, I will be sculpting this exactly,

Though so much bigger

And it will fit onto a person’s face.

I apply the shades

Light purples, teals, pinks,

Onto my eyelids before me.

I paint on the delicate lipstick.

I step back and smile

At the girl who is transformed before me.

It looks hardly anything like me,

As I stare at the dress I have created,

The elaborate wig atop my head,

Each little accessory something

Only I have created.

I smile as I realize that someday

It will not be a mirror I will look at

But a model, an actor, another person

Dressed in a costume I created,

Each stitch, each stroke, each detail

Hardly noticeable to the naked eye

But incredibly important.

I smile because I know someday,

I could be called across the great stage

To accept an Academy Award

For best costume designer,

Or to be a name in a list of people

Up on the big screen.

And someday be paid

To create what I love.