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Essays, poems on art
Front of the whiteboard, inspiration eludes me.
Fingersmith, I touch the canvas.
I questioned but nothing comes.
Inspiration eludes me.
And yet I really want.
Want to paint, to spread the color, indulge at all, nothing.
I do not know.
Inspiration eludes me.
It escapes me.
I'm not strong enough, quite decided.
Perhaps I have earned?
I should have been more attentive, the force to stay, the cuddle.
But no, I did the malignant
And I let go.
Anne-Marie.
 |  |  |  | Published since: May 25, 2011 Last update: June 2, 2011 |
Claudaix wrote on the Wednesday January 4, 2012 Moise wrote on the Sunday December 18, 2011
Gerard Pitavy wrote on the Thursday December 15, 2011 Tanguy wrote on the Friday December 2, 2011 Christi Thiébaud wrote on the Saturday November 5, 2011 Waldemar Nobre wrote on the Saturday September 17, 2011 Mc Palcowski (Peintre Pastelliste) wrote on the Tuesday September 13, 2011
Peinture-Passion wrote on the Sunday September 4, 2011 Patte Gauche wrote on the Tuesday August 23, 2011 Ameise wrote on the Friday June 3, 2011 
