She knows what she knows, yet at the same time, has no knowledge of anything. She's confident, yet shy and insecure. She's got everything figured out, yet has no idea what to do. She sits at an instrument that she has known for years, but cannot figure out how it works. She loves, but doesn't allow herself to feel love. She yearns to trust, but cannot bring herself to let people in. She looks at everything around her without ever truly seeing it for what it is. She loves her friends, but does not allow them to get close.
She sits down an instrument she cannot remember being without, looking at a piece of music she has played since age seven. She knows it inside and out, she knows the instrument. She can feel the music. She is confident in it and knows she can play it flawlessly. Yet when the time comes to play, her fingers hesitate, unsure of where they should land. She shows a face of fearlessness, but she knows she will make mistakes. Everyone tells her that she has done well, but she knows otherwise. She graciously thanks them, but inside criticizes herself to no end. This is how she lives 24/7. She can know everything about a subject up to the minute when she really needs too. Then it all disappears, and she is left standing dumb.
She has always appreciated organization, but can only keep it for a few days. She has got her life figured out, but has no idea where she wants to go in it. She lives in constant organized chaos, always waiting for her life to explode into one or the other, but that never happens. She is stuck in a time old tale of mental division, a purgatory created by her own subconscious. She loves with all her heart, but does not give any of it away. She tells friends everything, but nothing. She gives it her all, but only part. She does not trust, but says that she does. She walks down the halls with a smile, never showing the emotion behind it. One might look at her and think nothing of her.
She works hard and tries to impress, but acts as though she doesn't care. She enjoys staying on the outskirts, being a "wallflower", yet performs for the limelight when it is called her way. She can understand some of the most confusing and complex things, yet the simple ones baffle her. She feels responsible for everything and nothing, whether or not it applies to her or is her fault is irrelevant. She is organized chaos on legs.
The painting is a reflection of this life. It is messy and incoherent, yet beautiful in its own right. It has a purpose to portray, and it is easily sympathized with by all. We are none of us perfect, we all have faults. But living in the chaos, we learn that, more than anything, it is about how we handle these faults rather than what they actually may be.
