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Perfect…. errr… No.

In Response to the Daily Prompt: Practice Makes Perfect?

If there’s something I would like to have as a gift, that is to be able to paint or draw, all the capacity to flick my wrist and fingers to sashay the smooth paintbrush on an empty canvass. A pencil even. When I was young I used to draw a lot, actually I usually draw than read, like other kids, I draw dream houses, dresses, princesses, landscape, etc. And then it was all suddenly gone, I refrained from doing it, just like a bubble that suddenly popped without being poked but just popped. And then I began wandering inside books, to other worlds and never came back.

I am really enthused with artworks, I am moved by how the artist poured his thoughts, himself, and his inspiration into the canvass and make it a sublime creation, just how special they are. I longed to be felt too, but looks like I’d be felt through my words instead of the lines, and defined colors.

But I am still grateful though, because when I try to draw, even if I’m bad at it, I could still make something. And here, let me share how terrible I am πŸ™‚

“Underneath Her Mind”

I don’t know if you could suss out what is that, but it’s a girl who’s in a messy bun, and I call that drawing “Underneath Her Mind”

Her back’s turned, because she’s out there, wandering. Getting lost in her thoughts.

12 thoughts on “Perfect…. errr… No.

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