Saturday, April 2, 2011
This is me, all 51 years of me. I have earned every gray hair. Life has created every wrinkle. I am unaltered at this time by any physician on the surface and I still have every part that God gave me. There many come a time that I tweek something here or there, but not yet. I am content. But the part that you can not see is the real me. You are the same way. Inside we carry around memories that are sweet and painful memories that we revisit at times.
We find that out of our mouths our hearts speak. We voice our anger at others for the wrongs done to us or the deep love that we feel for another. That is where the art comes from; out of the soul and mind. That is what draws us to the art of others also.