Sometimes, magic happens;

It feels like caffeine.

Fingers trembling, inspiration raging.

I get to fly, and my soul gets to widen.


Sometimes, creating becomes breathing;

It feels like an artsy obligation.

Hands working, mind living.

And a painting is born, or so does a quotation.


Sometimes, I am not a person;

It feels like I really am an artist,

And for a second I get the chance to be .

And I am alive in this action, alive in this midst.

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