colours become me
yesterday, i put brush to canvas after almost 15 years. initially, i just stared at the canvas as i stood facing the easel. the large white space intimidated me. it was already perfect, its texture, its depth, its simplicity...my touch would spoil its beauty. so i stood there awed, and hummed and hawed. until finally, colours became me.
the smudged colours on the pallette beckoned my hesitant hands. the paint-brush felt like an ill-fitting finger rather than an extension of myself. my strokes were tentative and uncontrolled. the turpentine wafted its long-forgotten fragrance. rothko's brilliance mocked me from the desktop. until finally, colours became me.
and i saw that colours were me.
thank u c, for loaning your paint materials.
and g, for showing me rothko.
the smudged colours on the pallette beckoned my hesitant hands. the paint-brush felt like an ill-fitting finger rather than an extension of myself. my strokes were tentative and uncontrolled. the turpentine wafted its long-forgotten fragrance. rothko's brilliance mocked me from the desktop. until finally, colours became me.
and i saw that colours were me.
thank u c, for loaning your paint materials.
and g, for showing me rothko.
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