Paint
Where are the stars? Are they miles and miles away? Up, up and away within the core of atmosphere...or, are they swarming their way through the galaxy in hope of what they set out to find. The star of happiness, the star of friendship, joy, love or peace...
When we close and rub our eyes, we fall into blackness, as dark as slate. Yet what lives within this swarm of black?
The dreams of young, innocent children? The lives they always imagined. The animals they would keep, all running wild and free; within the forests of naivety and youth...
Colour. They are all represented through colour.
We are the painters, our mind, a palette of its own. Mixing colours to find the shade that’s ‘just right.’
There is a dollop of anger, as the Red Paint lies solidified on the page. Seconds go by, and imagination takes over and realises that Red on its own is ‘too sharp.’
Anger ‘doesn’t look good on you.’
So, with the ease of thumbs and nimble fingertips, Yellow Paint drips with calmness as the liquidised
sun swirls into a puddle within Anger. Yellow Paint within Red Paint.
Human nature is quirky in the sense that it always wants to experiment with what is in front of one's eyes...and so, subliminally, The Innocent Youth escapes the rib cages, veins, arteries and capillaries of this adapted version of yourself and with gentleness, picks up the paintbrush like a feather at one’s feet.
The bristles glide along the paint and over the page like a fresh pair of skates on glazed ice.
Our eyes are still closed, and we now find ourselves immersed within that pool of black ink; Gasping for air, trying not to choke on what seems irreversible
Whilst ourselves seem
Irretrievable.
We ought to listen closely to the innocent youth,
As the young, delicate voice yearns to be unleashed once again.
‘keep going! Let yourself go and find purity, open your eyes without fear!’
And so, before us now, a masterpiece is born,
This, a result of Colour and Emotion finding their equal ground.
As happiness and joy intertwine with fire and anger, the way of human actions and acrylic paint display an Earthy Brown Landscape.
Most soil beneath our feet. Where soon, we shall return as one. We are as one, though the earth is bound to us, from limb to limb.
Molly Duffy
Within this piece of prose, I have incorporated those untouchable things which are of great importance to me. The gift of imagination and creativity. Many people express their feelings and emotions through artwork such as painting, or various other creative outlets, and even more so during lockdown I feel as though as a society we have grown to acknowledge the importance of creative expression. However, this piece of writing arguably has more to offer than the advertisement of creativity. It expresses the constraints people face, especially children in their most precious years, due to the comments made to them by their elders or fellow peers; the comments that could possibly impact their illusion of their potential, self- worth and capabilities. Usually, we find that throughout our life and growing up there is always something, or some sort of phrase, that we carry with us, hopefully positive and encouraging, but commonly negative and dubious. A phrase that possibly ignites the pit of self-doubt in our stomach. My aim for this piece is to encapsulate the feeling of being constrained or undermined through colours and art and hopefully take those of you who read it on a journey; a journey of finding oneself all over again. Reuniting not only with your sense of self, but your selfless, unbound, child-like self.