The Vision of an Artist

Phone at one-hundred percent,

Music app opened,

Headphones plugged in,

Zoned out. 

Brushes gathered, 

Paints wet, 

Cup filled with water, 

Ready. 

Image has been sketched.

Hours of sitting pass, 

Yet I am still working 

on the same stroke of hair.

I do not think about time,

I do not think about perfection,

I just let my brush flow 

with my heart.

My sight is clear, 

My eyes are open 

to only my work of art.

In progress. 

Eighteen hours later,

still sitting,

Undisturbed. 

My thoughts are only pure, 

nothing but good feelings.

My painting is emerging

into the vision I pictured

In my mind.

My happy mind. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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