There is no escaping the raw truth of life. There's no back exit you can sneak out of to avoid the troubles that will surely come ahead. Push through, the brushes beg me. I pick one up and glide it across the crisp white paper. With every pigment released into the canvas I fall deeper into the entrancement that is art. Once I am one with the colors, I can portray every emotion, every thought that passes through my mind with not a single word. One day the light shines in from my window onto the canvas. It's perfect. Magnificent even. It's like hearing angels sing in all their glory. I am finally whole, even if it's only for a second, I can breath.
