I feel the inklings of creativity stirring softly in my vein sometimes, like dust shuffled against a gray corner of a room by a small warm breeze. I don’t know if I will ever bloom permanently into a creative lifestyle, like I always imagined I would. I hope this summer frees the stress… and something lets it flow. Whatever it may be.
It maybe…
vocals, tinkling music, odd dishes, jellies mom will be made at me for making in the kitchen, patches sewn on old bagged stale clothing, pictures drawn in pen on crinkled used paper, idea bouncing with friends, clothing I wear with purpose in the morning, scenes I steal the light from an upload to my computer, words that gather like cellular structures are formed by dna to create….
something?
