Italics of imagination…
Ah, the freedom of creativity.
My tale is not one of the tortured artist.
Doubtless I have carved statues from my pain,
Obliquely however, as it doesn’t fuel me.
Instead, it was merely a dark cloud that followed me.
Now, I reside on a plateau that the clouds cannot reach.
Gratitude is a seed that’s nourished roots of abundance.
My creativity freed me from the shackles of the black dog,
Undeterred, I use its collar as a crown.
Could that my younger self could feel the reverberating ripples of hope.
How he would smile for me now.
Boldly, I encourage others to follow their passions….
Eternally grateful for the gifts mine bestowed upon me.
Torrid times are no more.
Today I smile where once I shuddered.
Eventually, hard work met opportunity.
Right… on… time.