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I Love Watching Her Paint

  I love watching her paint… The world shrinks to her canvas, her colors, and her brushes… Her painting is like a dream, a product of imagination. There is innocence, gentleness, and tenderness in her lines and colors. Her inner child is set free, expressing itself and becoming exalted… even when she paints melancholic scenes. In her, I find all the emotions I once felt while holding a paintbrush… I remember that sometimes, so absorbed in what I was doing, I would forget to eat. Creating allows you to live intensely in the present moment. You stop thinking ; the past and the future no longer exist. Our ways of painting are very different… While she recreates an imagined, dreamlike world, I am content to magnify what I see… My tones lean toward primary colors, whereas she finds joy in muted hues. Each person paints uniquely… Each person is unique…

Soul And Body

 

Unshed tears flow down the nose and throat, amidst coughing fits of unexpressed emotions...

When the soul is unheard, the body atones...

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