Nothing about him was fair, though he was lovely to look at, and that was the cruelty of his form. His stature, his eyes, his lips, his thighs, all of it cried foul because his perfection was purely masculine, undeniably man, but still rivaled the glory of woman.
He was lovely, and he knew it. He walked with his head tilted just enough so that his eyes looked down upon all from the slope of his nose. The gesture was unnecessary because he stood nearly a full head and shoulders over all.
His way was like that of a peacock, full of pride and glory, yet captivating. His skin was like flawless ebony that glowed from the rays of the sun. He was like the perfect night, challenging the majesty of the day and he was certainly winning.
I have no image to share with you all besides the one that I have painted with words. This composition of words came from my meditation upon art, searching for my muse for the next step in my creative journey.
As I searched through images created by artists that inspire me, the mingling of different genres and styles created this man in my head. I don’t know where his story will lead but I am grateful and delighted to see how one form of creative expression has given life to another.
Visual art has born that of written art.
If you are curious as to my creative journey, I tell you that this is a part of my Creative Faith in Action, prompted by my Free Creative Course; Sow the Seeds & Seize the Dream.
Thank you for reading, and do please share your thoughts and comments below!
~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!