I scan through your faces, your breasts, your legs, and your nests, visible through a square on my desk. I see your eyes, your nose, your thighs, your Ohs! and I wonder is this a new form of art? Can it be says he who wonders aloud that this collection of people without frame or wall to be hung, could represent the futures results of a brush, some talent and some time? Or is it just how I appreciate what I see that makes it art? I find beauty in almost everything, sometimes the beauty screams at me like a lost child, sometimes like its on fire. Scream at me I demand your attention! Look at me Im a freshly dolloped flow of paint, I am beautiful you scream, look at me, I am art...and I am in love. My first love was art, my second was sleep...love me art for I love you with open heart and mind. It is you who makes my heart beat....art.
