What rawness is exposed when you let your truths show?
What sense of beauty unravels as your imperfections travel past expectations and into the concentration of a person with no worries.
When focused upon, any human face unleashes the power of imperfection.
When ignored, any human face unleashes a glow of happiness, like understood glory and a sense of comfort.
A young boy is always a blank canvas.
Waiting for the gesso to mask the truth.
Or thick impasto expressionistic oils to form a new truth.
The direction the surface takes, relies entirely on the artists whim.
What precision is taken to mold a beauty, admired by all?
What skill would be needed to create realism, and a sense of familiarity and comfort, still admired by all?
What a rarity, what a skill.
The direction the surface takes, relies entirely on the artists whim.
What passion is taken to express emotion so fully?
To uncaringly form a uniquness, which provides its own rarity. Not admired by all. Uncaring, raw, unphased by all.
Still such a rarity, but overlooked as skill.
When misunderstanding an intention,
Misunderstanding a past, a history,
When misunderstanding a love, and providing a lack of empathy, the canvas is covered once more, by the thick impasto of prejudice. Which wipes emotion too breathlessly And ruins a human masterpiece recklessly.
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