The Artist Within

In this painting, there is an artist it reminds me of and I think of quite often and even though the years may change and the faces may change, I don’t think the heart really ever does.

Once you love someone, it remains within. And each time I look at it, I can’t help but feel reassured; that there is something more about it; that it grants me a certain peace.

This image on the canvas was created with hope with love, fascination and wonder and I see so much strength in your eyes… the way you get back up during those times when you feel like you’re out of rope.

I believe in you and I think we’ve got something worth fighting for…a dream that shall come to be. It may be a photo but it’s a part of the landscape; it’s my painting, a muse held so deep inside the artist heart that I don’t know where the art and artist begin or end.

All I know is I can see the man child becoming and that he means the world to me. I can see the paintbrush holding whispers as if it sweeps to the floor, fading into sunlight, stroking the face with such warmth as it slowly envelopes around each line.

Where all the colors of tension are held together, then slightly fading into shadows; where there is dark, there is also light too; a shining perfection of such, upon my beautiful muse.

It’s a perfect landscape; where the sea walls are not painted, there is no wallpaper here peeling at the edges and no floorboards creak; only cliffs and an ocean.

It’s about the shadow of you in the passage to who you will be in the entrance approaching ever so cautiously, but each step more hesitant than the next ever so quietly, as to not disturb the beautiful silence of the art within the artist.

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