I am an artist.
I draw with color.
Flowing watercolors stream
Down my cheeks from under my eyelids.
Messy oil pastels spiral from my fingertips.
Thin pencil lines trace my lonely
Footsteps through town.
Colorful chalk dust puffs
Into the air when I flip my hair
Charcoal-smeared footprints show my twisting
And winding path through life.
I draw with words too.
Adjectives and adverbs color outside
The lines of my literature homework.
Complicated strings of words form an aura
Around my shoulders, stirring restlessly as I walk.
Participles, prepositions, and predicate nominatives clink
In time with my sparkling jewelry.
Sentence after sentence flutters gently
Onto the waiting page from my beating heart.
My artist hands can use the keys on a keyboard as easily
As they can use the colors on a palette.
But my art doesn’t only show on paper.
It appears on faces too.
It can draw on your emotions
And bring hidden feelings to the surface.
I want to make viewers chuckle,
to make readers sniffle or gasp in surprise.
That’s the art I like to create.
Colorful interpretations of figures in pastels warm
A chilly soul on a windy, bitter day.
Grim sketches may send one’s mind into despair,
Only to be rescued by a hint of saving
Color in the distance.
Still lives of household objects--a flower, a shoe--display
The beauty of everyday life.
Charcoal portraits of grinning, gleeful toddlers strain to leap
Off the page right into the hearts of onlookers.
Inconsequential details create fairy-tales
In the minds of curious readers.
Witty memories set to rhyme
Make even grown adults giggle like children.
Exciting tales of family adventures
Send readers on meaningful journeys of their own.
Images hiding in lines of type surprise
The audience when they least expect it.
I use the art I create on paper to make better art on faces.
Whether I cause looks of appreciation or hesitation,
If it makes you thoughtful, grateful, or hateful,
It’s still art.
And I’ve created it.