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Struggling to understand how your creative brain works without organization.

     How does the madness of the mess in your working space find greatness amongst one sheet of discarded paper?

     There it lay excellently fantastic and you weren’t even trying.

     How do you fall so far back on achievement lazy placing harder work on yourself at crunch time pulling it off perfectly with seconds left?

    No priority other than the one vision designed by your mind that won’t let you go till it’s come alive in the form of paint, drawn pencil, voice or movement.

    How do you feel so free when there is so much to do?

    Setting obstacles up on a shelf to catch dust while you dance lively and frolic around them.

    How is it never hard for you?

    I see you beam with lights of brilliance without effort customizing each piece of your work with a personal touch.

   Stamping it extremely rare and special, honored by all making its acquaintance.

   You frustrate me, you amaze me, I am in awe of your skill and suffer in envy of your inner freedom.

   Perhaps it’s never to be understood what makes you and your work so touched.

   It’s just art, in all its beautiful expressiveness; whether it be broken, late, messy, confusing, crazy, or lost.

  How can I possibly  adore creations derived in such a mockery?

  I just do.

 Annmarie M. Roberts