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Before me
A lump of virgin clay
Lays.
Unsure
How to express
Those images
That are trapped
Within my mind.
Just like
A blank page
In my writing book
Awaiting
My creative touch.
As my fingers
Move over
Its surface.
Mixing
The various media
Into a solution.
In my symbolic search
For the philosopher's stone
Of expression
And release.
In giving
Physical form
To the words
Of my poems.
Unleashing
My true artistic vision
Beyond
The written word.
Therisa © 2016
Author's note: Since January 2014, I have been attending an art studio, which offers an artistic program, for people with mental illness, socially isolated, and those, who are recovering from addictions. It's operated, jointly, by a local hospital and a NGO.
Sadly, I completed my first sculpture, and am awaiting, for it, to dry out, before it can be fired for the first time, and painted, before the second and final firing. Mostly, as the result, from my own battle, with anxiety and agoraphobia.
