She art, she guards her heart from dream stealers.
Some days inspiration picks you up and carries you forward; it’s like psychedelic crowd surfing of the mind but with paint, paper, glue and paintbrushes. Last week was one of those weeks when i got my hands messy with creating every single day. Bliss.
I asked myself how much does every piece of my art mirror me and my hearts longings and concluded; they are all 100% me. Art is the outpouring of one’s soul, a wet thesis from the depths. It keeps me sane. I just need a thousand blank walls upon which to hang them all.