Drawing my blank
“I am not the picture you’ve painted in your mind of me. No matter how beautiful, or how horrible it may be. They are your colours; and your own artistry”- Suhaib Rumi This adulting life is very confusing;one day you are rich, the next day you are a mathematician. So hello fellow mathematicians and welcome to my thoughts :) Hands were made for doing. For a carpenter to carve, a sculptor’s to sculpt, a mother’s to love and a father’s to protect. Mine are the hands of an artist. Every brush stroke of paint I make, every instrument I hold to play, every sketch I make, every everything that I ever; it all comes from a passion within. When speaking to a person who does possess my passion for the arts, it’s as though our conversation is not a conversation at all; but rather a sharing of different languages. They cannot grasp the idea that art is not solely a descriptive language , it’s a conjoining of both mind, body and soul. Small trip down memory lane,