~Maeve~
The first time in a very, very long time, I paint. I paint every chance I get. At the university studio, in class, back at home. My canvases are splashed with dark blues and turbulent greys and thunderous blacks, a visual representation of what is going on within me. It’s almost scary how the inspiration comes gushing when not so long ago, I had felt like I’ll never be able to paint again. I see a beacon of light for showcase in the next two months and it almost feels like a part of my life, pre-Dylan is being restored. Pre-Dylan? Is that what I am calling the time of my life when I had lived gregariously, with no care in the world and with a trace of loneliness that I had never made sense of until he made an appearance in my life?
Guess, we are.
Art had been my way o
