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Little me
My wall is a true work of art; How so?
The story it tells, throughout all my years.
You look upon the paint, and there it flows;
little me full of dreams. An artist appears;
I had an eye for color. And it showed,
each wall was tainted of the full rainbow.
Small figures jumped and danced; dreams to explode.
I could not dance, but they could, and they know
me. They can understand the horrors of me.
They are not people; they are mine. My dreams
shoved into a drawing. They make me free.
An artist, but it is not as it seems.
The only truth is that I was locked from
my dreams, this was escape I found from them…
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I use my work as an outlet of my own emotions and is one of the ways I have been able to understand the complexations of my experiences with an adverse childhood. It is a way for me to cope, and while some of my work is darker, and about trauma indicting parts of my life, I like to keep the themes subtle. I also like to reflect in the joy I was able to find in a bad situation, hoping to be a light for someone else in this dark world. This particular piece examines how I used art as a coping mechanism as a child, as it was the only thing that was mine, it let me reach beyond my limitations, and hid me from the terrors going on around me.