The Artist in Me

This world overflows with visual magic, from the most astounding phenomena to the least significant mote of dust. Most of this occurs beyond us, unnoticed while we are distracted by the daily over-stimulation of our five senses. The world flashes by at 80 MPH or is kept at bay by constructed walls. Natural or man-made, the potential for art exists everywhere.

Ever since I was a child, I have possessed a desire to capture what I see and re-express it, whether visually in drawings or photographs, audibly in music, or in the written word. The skills haven’t always been present, leading to frustrations when the idea fails to appear as imagined. Driven by a need for perfection—whether this is innate or nurtured by environment is a subject of debate—I wallow in perceived failure more often than I revel in confidence of a work well-done.

The artist in me fails to give up completely. The artist in me compromises between perfection and illusion and allows the imperfection to speak for the visual wonder.

mother tree


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