An Atelier Journal

At my desk it waits always, a thousand tasks, a thousand ways. 

Each one a dream, a secret kept, 

each one an adventure, never slept.

Some are silent, yet insistent, whispering,

“End the day, be persistent.” 

Some are restless, in a hurry, tangling hands and feet in worry.

Some refuse to be undone, unyielding, stubborn, never weary.

In one corner, brushes stiff with paint, already dry, with colors faint; 

in another, sketches sleep in piles, typewriter praises, abandoned trials..

And the notebooks? Best not to pry..

Labyrinth lines, hasty signs, scribbles unread, 

ideas still to ripen in their stead. 

Drafts that wander, never done, stories trailing, one by one..

And look: again, too long, half-spun! Yet I’m used to it; yes, I am. :))

Will they be finished when their time is near? 

Yes... Oh yes; they will, my dear. 

Then, a sudden soft crackle, a whisper through the still. 

Dried flowers stretch and awaken, a meadow portrait slowly revealed. 

They dream, one day, to grace the walls, and perhaps, quietly, even yours..

Ink has long since chosen its own way. It drips gently onto the page, a quiet sway, 

stories, poems, dreams in their own array.

Sometimes silence weaves its thread, 

waiting for morning’s glow instead.

Here the hands are always busy, time another realm entirely. 

Truly! :) 

It bends, it stretches, it may delay; or loosens quickly, slips away.

But in the end, all takes its place, exactly as it should, with grace.

This is why in my Atelier, 

no rule endures; everything quietly turns to play…

Colors and potions, paints and flowers; 

ink, photographs, digital traces, lines, poems..

All gather in the realm of mixed arts, 

where eternity whispers and everything blends into dreams..🌙✨