Some days i am the artist,Other days i am art and When life gets real weird,I become both.

Without the pain there would not be art, the patterns are the pieces of me i've lost and gained along the way.

For me, art makes the ordinary magical.

People are always relying on another, i always feel more comfortable alone. Art knows my pain, its not just a desire to paint, a hobby to distract me from living my truth, it is my truth.

I owe it all to words and art, the peace that came with a flicker of a pen silenced the suffering; eased the pain and life that was once filled with burden became sane again. It Became meaningful. Art does matter, it made me, when the world changed me.

Maybe it's easier to conform, to stay in a job I hate to pay bills of the things I don't even enjoy and marry a man I'm not passionately in love with, whilst surrounded by those who have absolutely no life to their smile but I don't want easy. I never have. I want a life so fucking grande' I reach every little milestone in sweats or tears knowing I Followed what was true to my heart. I don't care if I walk alone for the rest of my days, if it means I get to stay true to myself.

I don't paint what people expect, I paint what my heart yearns to express.

I create beautiful art, so I can look back on the life my body fell short of in such a way that it brings me peace.

I like life, it's wonderous and chaotic and somewhere in the middle I've created a safe place to do my thing in the world ~ I can't ask for much more & I am already so thankful when everything I got