My Paintings Reflect Me
My living room is full of brown furniture,
but you do not notice it
because my paintings have
exploded onto the walls.
My paintings are not landscapes,
or faces. They are cartoons, and they
are gloriously a part of twenty whimsical
themes. They are hippies, faeries, art deco,
warrior women, pirate women, or dragons.
My husband says I might be a lesbian,
and I cannot say that he is wrong.
I used to paint in regular colors, but they
got as boring as the couches, so now I
paint in neons. Neon red, neon orange, neon pink,
neon yellow, neon green, neon purple. On my walls
are neon paintings of Steampunk women, gardens, flowers,
unicorns, cats, woodland creatures, Christmas, and Halloween.
I have gone painting to painting to see if I have given you
a clear picture, and yes, they all fit into these categories, as long
as you add butterflies, bees, and owls. I have no idea what my family
will do upon my death with these glorious paintings. I am enjoying them
now, and this is enough.
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