There they are. Just waiting to be dunked, dipped and swirled. Remnants of color held between their bristols, proof that once not so long ago they were needed and loved. Now, they just patiently wait. They will be ready when their day comes again. Looking at them, I recall the joy I have when holding them in my hands. I will paint again. I will.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Waiting.
There they are. Just waiting to be dunked, dipped and swirled. Remnants of color held between their bristols, proof that once not so long ago they were needed and loved. Now, they just patiently wait. They will be ready when their day comes again. Looking at them, I recall the joy I have when holding them in my hands. I will paint again. I will.
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