The passing strokes glide by each other, each holding hands with their neighboring strokes.
The wind rushes them forward into a convoluted gesture of mixed feelings onto paper and forming a figure in the distance.
A girl.
Standing by the apple tree
looking up into the bottomless abyss we call our night sky
feeling time rush by, an intangible force streaming faster than any wind, any sea tide, any stroke.
She breathes in air and slowly time seems to vanish
and it's just her
and the night sky
the stars glimmer in the distance
and hold hands
in a serpentine path
forming the collection of the universe's belongings.
She breathes out.
And as she looks up.
She wonders
how everything in this universe came to be.
For me, that's something art can communicate in just a single canvas. It expresses intangible ideas onto a tangible material, shaped and created by our very own bodies — the boldest shout of humanity into the deep void.
I've loved art since I was a little girl. Its meaning to me would change as I grew up and developed deeper and more complicated notions and interpretations of the world but that didn't mean that I gave up on how I communicated it. There was always a blank piece of paper, a pencil, a handy eraser, and my imagination splashed out in front of me, daring me to begin. Art can be silly or fun but it can also be deeply abstract or sentimental. I love the flexibility of it, allowing it to take any form or shape. I like the enigmatic character it holds as it compiles you to think deeper on the artist's intent. And most of all, I love that it can be anyone's to make and anyone's to hold.
