Someone once told me that for an artist to capture the beauty of the world, they must first be exposed to the deepest of pains.
To transport one to another place, they have to first experience the deepest and darkest of its secrets.
An artist experiences levels of the world that others simply cannot imagine, much less describe.
For that reason, I find myself swept away by what others may pass with a grain of salt.
Those simple folk criticize the nightmares of my walk.
To them, I apologize.
I apologize because they cannot even begin to comprehend the contrast available to me.
For while the hellish prison holds stronger, the eventual freedom proves sweeter.
I live with a heightened sense of awareness to the seemingly trivial passings of life.
I live with the gift of experiencing pain in order to rejoice in the power of healing.
An artist bears more than they should carry, but they reap more than they knew was capable of being sown.
So thank you to those that hurt, that stole, or that passed by me. Whether you knew it or not, you gave me another color to paint with.
And I intend to use them all.
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