Insiration flows like a tap.
Sometimes in a rush, eager to go somewhere, to be fully formed
other times slow, deliberate, thoughtful, unsure.
My inspiration comes often at night
carving an uneven path through sleepy thoughts
half formed, half created by a lethargic brain.
My inspiration comes at her own pace
days and days of white paper and no ink.
Other days ink but no paper.
Heedless of my frustration.
Words and images that I have never experienced or touched
but they are real.
Sometimes with the sharpness of a teacher, I learn, always.
My inspiration is always in progress. I understand only part of
what I have created.
Bu
I've drawn so many new pictures that are actually good, but they're to large for me to scan them in. and Taking a picture washes out all the color. Im very disappointed. Oh well.