I don't want to speak about skill - in painting, in playing the piano or the guitar, in singing or in writing.
I want to say a few words about souls.
Because there are people whose heart strings have the shape of staves but know nothing about notes.
Those are the real musicians.
Because there are people who hear whispered verses in their dreams but forget them after the morning coffee.
Those are the real poets.
And there are people who read, think and feel in colors and shapes.
Those are the real painters.
Just like make-up can't build the face of a man, mere paint can't create a masterpiece.
But just like an actor can give a soul to his character, a painter can give life to his brushes.

Here's a story of wondering souls.



I painting...





...and sometimes I want to my brush.





And even though brushes aren't necessarily equal to painting,...





...I know I am my most precious canvass...





...and this is where I keep my soul.








And if you feel like a painter, too, spread the color because it is beautiful no matter what it expresses...

...joy...


...or pain...




_{Special thanks to *Arline whose amazing photo inspired this article}