My Life Is A Canvas

I have been reminded recently that my life is a canvas, and I am the artist.

My life is a canvas

And I am the artist

My canvas is an invitation

The most beautiful one I will ever receive

There are no lines to fill

It is not a colouring book

My canvas is blank

And I am free

I do forget that I am the artist

And can feel more like the paint

Being moved and sloshed around by others

I am the painter and not the paint

Abundance is everywhere

The colours are endless

So many combinations

Each one unique

It is messy

The paint is everywhere

It knows no bounds

I accept this reality

Tools are helpful

Brushes give variety

A stand gives support

And water cleanses

It sometimes feels difficult

Taking breaks is needed

As in the empty spaces

I regain perspective

I create not for an audience

Not even for myself

It is about the effort

Not the fruits of my labour

Perfection is my enemy

A fabrication of my mind

It stops me in my tracks

I have to move past it

It is a journey

It does not happen overnight

There is no destination

So I learn how to enjoy it

At times I become blind

With ignorance and illusion

Unable to see clearly

That I am the artist and my life is the art

The richness of my art

Comes not from its size

But from its depth

And its many layers

Inspiration can be helpful

Be it from inside or out

And when I feel most inspired

I also become inspiring

When I share my art

I allow myself to be seen

When I become curious about others

I begin to see

Time is my friend

She gives me encouragement

With her I feel more confident

I am as I am

I understand the reality

That I have only one

I am the artist

And this life is my one canvas