In a pencil, there exists an entire universe,
A universe much greater than my own.
It contains no Where or When
Only What and Why.
There, light and dark are interchangeable,
Sound and sight are the same,
Gravity and time are optional,
And dimensions span far beyond three.
On paper, there are no rules.
No walls or signs or fences
All are welcome.
This universe can freely enter
And colonize the page like fireworks,
A single point producing a blinding force
Pulsing against gravity,
Dancing into the darkness.
The paper patiently waits for the first stroke;
Ideas flash like an endless string of lightning
In my head, racing toward my fingers
Before they vanish into the earth.
The pencil makes its choice; I never question
How
I only follow.
And an unbound, uninterrupted world is born.
In moments,
Tastes and sounds are given shape,
Feelings are observed
And felt.
A shape, a shadow, or a lack of such,
Opens a window to another state of mind.
Everything can be anything.
Relying on impulse,
Feeling,
A line produces a face
Or spreads into a web
A dot sprouts into a petal,
Or a chair, or a cloud.
A nothing becomes a something
And a something becomes a something else
Or a something more.
Swoop or streak, dash or dot, right or left,
The world grows and shrinks in a
Single flash of grey.
Art is an ongoing journey.
The pencil provides a path,
And I try to keep up with my feet.
Whatever pace, whatever terrain,
I’ll find my destination when I arrive.
I only have to
Go.
YOU ARE READING
Sketching
PuisiArt is an ongoing journey. Pick a path, and follow your feet. Simply enjoy your surroundings. You'll find your destination when you get there. Walk, run, skip, sit, Leave the path, or don't. Any direction, any speed, Any weather, any terrain, Go. Wh...