I am an artist.
Some people insist I am not
But I am.
People say I do not draw
But I do.
People say I do not paint
But I do.
People say I do not construct things of beauty
But I do.
It is true that I do not hold a brush
It is true that I do not know different shades of blue
It is true that my work does not belong on walls or in museums.
But I am an artist all the same.
Words are my ink and paint
Paragraphs my brushstrokes
With these I create my art.
I draw a war
With little children crying
As their fathers are killed keeping them safe.
I draw a field
Where men hunt animals
Knowing that should they fail, they will go hungry.
I draw a moonlit boat
With forbidden lovers entwined
Their lips bruised from frantic kisses.
My words surround and enchant
And with them I paint pictures.
I am a writer.
I am an artist.



