And I realize,
It’s not just art,
It’s just not love,
It’s just not me…
It’s different me.
It’s LIFE, BEAUTIFIED.

As streaks of crimson swirls behind the curves of viridian hue,
Yellow ochre orb sends fiery blades into waves of cobalt blue,
Prussian blue feather strikes a vermillion boomerang into the sky of Hooker’s green;
It speaks wrath of agony,
It speaks of freedom;
It speaks strains of patience,
It speaks of hope;
It speaks pangs of silent tears,
It speaks of empathy;
It speaks flicker of realization,
It speaks of love…
Abstract Art is, but Frozen Feeling.