Watching a masterwork amount can be quite an exhilarating thing. That is, if you let it be. The artist taking their tool/s of choice and deducing to hide away and for however long a time it may take. Or, at least, that is how the cliche goes, when really those moments are, perhaps, the most fun-fuelled moments of any artist’s day. Existence, even. They become besotted and in a way that many people will never get to understand. And that is actually a shame for them. I suppose… Because creating a style of art, whichever the medium of reckoning on any artist’s part, can be so sincerely awesome an endeavour. An endless and undeniably limitless endeavour, indeed. It is this sense of personal space given over to not just yourself but a world of possibility, and all of it residing in your mind and awaiting choreographed allocation via said chosen tool/utensil, etc. In a nutshell, you appear half nuts to most people for your insatiable need to create. And in an utter nutshell, you are opening up and bolstering your personality a thousand times over. Giving it a thousand avenues of interpretation. Literally everything is happening up inside of your head if you let it. When sitting alone and doing literally nothing can be just as awesome sometimes as being on a night out with good, good friends. Personally, I had no choice in it, I gave myself over to my art-form a long way back

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