music of the soul

[creativesoul]

tonight i played my music boxes
two monkeys with one having a mocrophone, betty boop singing'somehwere my love..." and venice italy the grand canal, a musical jewelry box my italian son gave me when I was younger
and he was only 20
they carry me to a place where I am free
i took over the garage and began building my painting studio
there is a fire burning in the wood stove out there and blankets covering the crack where the cold sneaks...
in.
I lived in there once with a man I thought I loved. My paintings told me he was dark and evil and cruel.The manipulation he learned in prison and his hatred of women, or just me? His blind mother lived in a nrsing home for 7 yeares. She died. I got up in the middle of the night as we were sleeping in the hospital and told her to go to the door at the end of the hallway, and all her firends would be waiting for her. get on with it i said.
when I woke up, he said"she is gone"
I knew
i knew alot of things.
spiritually imbalanced people do not hear the spirit world.
in my turquoise splendor there are planes of color he cannot see. he is blind to beauty. lust is his only friend. he is very lonely.I pity him.He is a sick man, and he will not pollute my artwork with his shadows ever again
Changing my bright papaya yellows and oranges to blacks and grays and faces i no longer reccognize.
i dream of a time when i can share my inner life, my colors and my smiles with a lover that wants to make love and laugh, share my heart and soul.
Some people like to make love when they are snowed in. I am going to leave him the way I found him at the salvation army.
not a great place to shop. I prefer designer clothes never been worn or the tropics
kiss me
you cannot touch this

[saw]

what makes this great is it's raw honesty and emotion....this was obviously written by someone that has lived this life, someone that has risen above the torment that can be inflicted by a diseased mind....I like the reference to how the paintings told her what he was all about...i feel art is always the first person to speak....artists lead the way...and perhaps it was the strong nature of the artist that helps this woman escape her past.....enjoyed this a lot.

[justwalt]

Freedom comes and goes over the years, like inspiration riding on
its own wave...that magic wave. And the spirit too, rises and falls
as it seems fit...reflecting its need through the artist's hand. It's a
sweet, sweet bitter world anymore, but hopefully there are more
trips to the paint supplier now, to stock up on those bright colors.

walt