My Canvas

I guess in a way, photography is my canvas..

Using my eyes as the brush, I squint, bend, tip toe, kneel, as I dab colors on or around my subject..  I imagine myself as this artist in the flowing white dress with a dainty pallet of paint, which I must hold carefully.. My “brush” is not as it used to be, so I have to stand back sometimes. I guess photography can be described as such.. No?? You don’t see it?? or do you??

I met with some photographers yesterday, and I realise the more I speak with other people, the more my absolute love of photography grows and deepens. It is so exciting..  I will always be a starving artist because every shot is so meaningful to me, I couldn’t put a price on it, instead I use it to make people happy..  I don’t give my stuff away, I share with people who need it..

Found this poem by sgtkiwi..

Many years ago, in youth it began
You prepared the canvas But not by your hand

You softly painted, taking great care
Each stroke perfection; Every color was there

And now your painting is a true work of art
Painted with your love; Inside of my heart

Yet, still unfinished, you paint more each day
It grows more beautiful in every way

I can only say thank you for the painting you’ve made
And spend my life trying, this debt to be paid

In all of this world of all works of art
The most beautiful painting lies inside my heart