In honor of April being National Poetry Month, I want to share with you all something I wrote back in January. It is titled The Magic in Art Studios:
I grew up in art studios , surrounded by magical images focusing on thoughts, love, hate and life all being projected onto canvases.
I was surrounded by women that could take a single brush stroke and turn it into a beautiful story, art imitating life imitating art. Each cubicle different, a space to call their own.
And as I felt like part of the group, as they housed art shows in their space: First The Studio, then The Art Collective, I realized that art was my very first love.
I loved the idea that I was in a censorship free zone where women had the power to do bad all by themselves and to tell it in their art.
Creativity buzzing in my little 12 year old veins, super adult, box wine in my cup. cheese and crackers in my stomach; I was a force to be reckoned with. I was anything I wanted to be. Abstract. Realist. Feminist.
It was a good time in my life those two art studios. I learned so much about the importance of self expression, and about self love and a lot about womanhood.
Wondergirl95 