Thursday, May 10, 2007

Something i came across on Deviantart by Blackmago, which reminded me of something.

I really, really envy those with the capacity to draw well. Not banners or house posters, but iridescent chromatic masterpieces that stop me in my tracks. It's one thing to have a amazing dream, or listen to an awesome piece of music.

But it's another thing together to be able to express that in colour, for the world to see. My classroom doodles are but mere halflings compared to what I come across daily. Truly, I am stifled. When was the last time you had a dream so vivid, but no way to tell anyone about it?

Art is transmutation at it's very finest.

In a perfect world I would be free from the drudgery of life, free to draw, to paint, to read. I would have a cottage somewhere beside a forest. Already, I see the sky and the clouds, the lake and the mountains.

I also see cities of shining metal, forests of light and shadow, the vast deep underground. Every hue, every shadow, every emotion encapsulated in colour. All this I see in my mind.

But I cannot, for the life of me, transmute that into art. Not now, not yet.

And it hurts.