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| From www.poetrypoem.com |
There was a time I dreamed
of putting paint on canvas in a manner
that would please, inspire, connect
in other-worldly ways with those
who viewed what I'd created.
It hasn't happened yet; I haven't
studied, done the work, put in
the time, and so I haven't earned
the title "artist." Those who have,
the ones who lock themselves inside
their studios and paintpaintpaint,
make it look so easy, effortless
and yet we cannot know the canvases
they threw away, dissatisfied, the ones
I'd be so proud of, were they mine.
Perhaps one day the explanations
and excuses that I use against
myself will end and I will take
a brush in hand, The Eagles playing in
the background as I work.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014
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