The First Artist

I dreamt last night. I walked through a darkened room, wading my way through the mists and clutching hands of desperate people. Pain, anguish.... it filled the place, brought some to their knees in despair.

Then.... the mists cleared.

A lovely woman stood there. She held held a cold, uninterested expression, and gazed off in the distance with deep blue eyes. I wanted to dismiss her, as just a gothic lolita, a victim of the trends that capture our youth so easily...

Then she moved. Not much... a hint of a smile and her eyes flicked to glanced my way. I was pierced, lanced, frozen where I stood. Unable to move or resist the hands the clutched at me.

..........

It was small at first. Just the hint of color unfolding from her shoulders.... but it swiftly turned into a raging swirl of color and passion, image and desire...

I knew then what I had the honor of seeing. Hidden beneath that somber clothing, that distant attitude... a true artist. Her soul flew free, wings of imagination and dreams....

awestruck, I could do nothing more than tremble as I was gifted that sight....

Then the mists closed in, then groping hands returned... and I began to walk. Seeking another glimpse of that rare beauty....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colored pencils on black cardstock

Edit: And now that I got his sn *grin* A wonderful artist who's art I love to simply get lost in did much to inspire this image. His work is abstract... but you can see... so much in it. Worth looking at ...