I'm enjoying painting so much lately. Filling journals with bright colours and weird shapes. Sometimes I wish I could do nothing else, that I could just sit and paint all day for the rest of my life. Nothing feels the same.
I want to paint all the time in a secluded location and with a large selection of foods to fuel me. I want to lock myself up in a tall tower in the middle of the woods and paint stuff. Is that a realistic ambition? Please say yes.
I love paint.
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Thank you so much for your comments, especially if they include limericks about skeletons.
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