Art has been there since the beginning of time,
sending aid and rejoice for the disturbed.
Art will make some whimper.
Art will make some radiate.
Art will make some rage.

Nonetheless, art made some, like me, see.
See that feeling is natural.

That the crave of the rough grain of paper against my hand,
or the feel of a wooden brush or pencil in between my fingers would soon become a daily need.
That pure happiness would fill my veins when an idea blended beautifully together.
That the adrenaline rush of showing my art to others would be enough to have me hooked forever.
That a simple brushstroke to a straight edged line or the color red can awaken a part of me.
That makes me feel okay.
Not that okay where you feel meh,
but that okay where you are in a completely blissful state of being content.

Art sets me free into a world filled with hues of razor red, sinister silver, and voiceless violet.
Art gave me purpose.
Art sets me free into a world where the odd and confusing becomes normal and calming.
Art gave me hope.
Art sets me free into a world of your own.
Art gave me feelings.
   Art set me free to be me.

Lets face it, without Art the earth would be a colorless abyss,
and some, like yours truly, would wither into cosmic dust
without the constant loving embrace of art.v