In the blink of an eye.. the light lands softly, touching the tip of my lashes, sparkling through a watery substance called tears.
Author: deyathorin
Thoughts by Deya
UncategorizedSundays.. Family.. dinner.. laughter.. dishes done.., eagerly looking.. finding a brush, dipped it, wipe it, apply it… yes. The simple pleasures of life are worth waiting for.
Spilling drop
UncategorizedSo fast it hit the surface , that the paper couldn’t smell her essence, only the fleeting splash that left a faint color of love.
Purple Haze
UncategorizedWhat I perceive when the gray and blues mixed in the late afternoon air. The dreams that come when I slumber on a Sunday afternoon.. images that blend with-the smell of fresh cut grass sipping through the window.
Ahh yes,the satisfaction.
UncategorizedMy soul reposes after the brushes are washed from todays work. Every turn of the brush brings a new light and shadow to follow. My nose has become numb from the intoxicating but sweet smell of the paint. Oh yes, opening a new tube, tickles my senses.
Loud Metal Cubes
Uncategorized
I can hear the movement.. the wheel is moving
UncategorizedAs I put my brush on the canvas, I can hear it.. The metal sound of the wheel.. Is under the brush..the paint, the liquid,, vibrates. The movement of creation.. See it, feel it.