Paper notes

Will the battle to prove my need to paint ever end?. Why has my creative ability always felt like a battle. A constant explanation as to why I must do this. I seem to explain and defend my justice. My piece of peace that I protect. Always in a strange war with constant explanation of why I want to paint. Constantly brought down and ignored from those who are suppose to support. Strangers see the beauty and amazement in my work while those that claim to care only stare once and become annoyed with my colors, my work , my joy. When will my art bring my loved ones happiness. Strangers I admire for they can see the creative artist in me. Those that claim to care only want to see you as a regular person not the amazing human god created in his making of you. One day I won’t explain or worry about explaining my art I will simply depart.


Chatter box

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