What's in a picture? An expression of one's self can sometimes can be the ambiguity of life. It's a symbol of expression that can be found in the deepest corners of our affection to someone we dearly love. This is what I feel when sometimes, the joys of life is the unknown. Like a painting waiting to be finished, you can never tell to see yourself whole unless you know that your time has ended. My love to someone can be a joy. Painting yourself to that picture in the never-ending vagueness of life.
Pictures and paintings are two different worlds. Pictures are instant. You can never enjoy the time of looking your loved one in the infinity of time. Paintings are more intimate. Every stroke of the brush is a stroke of your inspiration. Your world now seems to be unimportant every time you held your brush into your hand. Enjoying the time you see the eyes of the women you most dearly long for. The picture of her can be as clear as the moment. Suddenly, all can be blurry as the painting. Memories hold wonderful moments, but can also make you grief in the moment in your Mellon collie life. This is all that I had left. Just the blurry images of herself. I kept those memories, constantly painting to make it clear. My mind sometimes bring me into a new world. It is as if, I was carried to a place that I was hoping to see. A place where I could see her more clearly in the dimension of reality. A painting as clear as certainty. .
But of course, imagination always plays with me. Never grasping the truth of the great unknown towards my life to quest. The task may be arduous. But I know somewhere in the perpetuity, I know that I might find and see the end of the eternal mystery. Waiting to frame the picture in a painting.