Woman of Art.

The steam slowly raises from inside my mug, wrapping itself around my pencil, eventually evaporating into the musty atmosphere. As I open my sketchbook I imagine all the possibilities of a world inside my head, but today I’ll stick to what I do best. I place pencil to paper and within seconds her eyes blaze like wildfire, a look of pure mystery and a feeling of seductiveness. Her nose is sly and round with a slight creek to the left in a cute and attractive way, I pick up my cup and take a sip before moving on. I sketch a swiftness of lines as a base to what will later become a sea of hair, my hand slides down to her neck, she is beautiful. I rub my eyes, it’s late now and my candle is starting to burn out, her shoulders are broad, not to wide but slightly long. I run the tip of my lead around her soft breast, they sag slightly at the bottom but I don’t care, as I draw in her hips. You could place your hands on hips like this and hold them for a lifetime, I move my pencil up to her waist, I prefer the fuller figure. I realise my tea has turned stone cold as I take her soft hand into mine, we dance around the page between the flowers and tree’s. I look into her eye’s of blazing fire and draw in the final outline of her hair, I think it would look good light blue with green streaks. I draw in her thighs as my pencil runs down her long smooth legs…. No, I take my eraser and rub out her legs as I change my mind. Instead I think I’ll have her legs disappear into a mist, her dress of gold and black sparkling in the cold midnight air. I draw in the tears as she cry’s, for no more life has she ever known, we walk through night, as I hold her hand she rests her head upon my shoulder. We take a seat on a newly sketched bench next to a fountain over flowing with water of the darkest blue, and she sighs. I get from out of my chair and fill the kettle, as the water boils I contemplate her fate, I pour my drink and sit down at my desk, I get to work. Her arms out spread and a smile on her newly formed gentle lips, I draw a sparkle into her tears, then as I place the finishing touches I rip out the page. The frame is cheap but not tacky, I placed her on the wall above my desk, Where next to a crystal fountain of water blue and dark, She can dance forever.