Sunday, January 27, 2008

Temperamental Artists

I feel like everything that was beautiful inside me has smashed and gone away.
I feel like painting wet people, consisting of nothing but watery puddles, as I sit naked, wet, wide-eyed.
Hair plastered. Body burning, body freezing. Goosebump and shiver, discovery, escape.
I want to lay my head on each piece and morph into it.
Find another reality.
I want to walk through this world and live in another.
Another where the beautiful things inside haven't smashed or broken or disappeared.
Another where my smile comes back and the world is amazing again.
If you swallow all of your tears your lungs drown.
I want to swim through my paintings so that I can break a surface - any surface - and find a way to breathe again.