Arting...

I've talked before about how I wish I could draw or paint. I can see the pictures in my head, even how they would be done, but I don't have the talent to move that picture to my hands. It's just not my creative talent. Stick figures. And often they are a little wonky...

Right now there is a BIG canvas. It's a pencil sketch, or could even be ink, but it's all done in black and white. The canvas is covered with a giant sketch of a room. One side of the canvas is much darker, much gloomier and the other really light. Even though it's the same room.

On the dark side there are shelves and they are overflowing with books, and loose paper, and knick knacks. There are piles of things on the floor. Books lying open in the middle of the floor. Lots of things that look half done. Just stuff everywhere. And shadowy. Dark.

The other side of the room is bright and light. There is a window where you can see outside to a forest scene. Trees and maybe some birds. There are book shelves, books, and knick knacks but they are neat. Everything is ordered. Probably as much stuff as the other side, but it's all very tidy. All very kempt. And lots of white space between things so it all looks bright.

In the middle of the room is a desk. It's sort of straddling everything. Transitioning from the dark half on the left to the bright white of the right.

The bright side of the desk has an old-fashioned typewriter, a neat stack of paper sitting next to it. A line typed on the sheet rolled in to the machine.

The dark side of the desk...underneath it...there you see her?

There is a fairy. Wings tucked in at her back. You can see her looking out of the picture at you. In profile. Head tilted, gleam in her eye. Book on the floor next to her hip. Stack of broken pencils at her feet. Hands grasped in front of her tightly...piles of crumple paper covered with scribbles all around her.

I can see it so clearly.

If only I could draw.

The picture...

 and the muse away from the dark half of the desk to the light....