sterlingrose

The Living Canvas

Skin lit in living colours, stretched taught over a frame posed in erotic sensuality and heat,
Gives voice to the woman's silent needs, I like my boys dirty...my hair mussed....my sex neat?
Or does it say I am me! I am pierced and inked, glorious and unique...I am pride and more than skin.
Each brushstroke is a memory, painted upon my soul, but where does the soul end and who I am begin?

You walk by my living gallery and make comments on my hair, too long, my lips, too red, or my eyes.
You speak as though it matters to me, whether you like the curves of my body or the weight of my thighs;
I didn't paint this masterwork for you, I didn't lay each stroke with care on the canvas of this, my life,
So that you could come and decide if I was art or not, use your words to cut me apart, slicing like a knife.

I am proud of this painting I have made, my colours are bold and my canvas is covered in vibrant art.
If you look closely you will see each victory or loss, my truths and lies and even a broken heart.
This is no random ink on paper creation, too thoughtless to ever make the trip of years and survive.
This that you are seeing is My Living Canvas and it is all I am or ever will be and it is what keeps me alive.

I am modern and abstract, all angles and sharp edges, too obscure for you to understand in one glance.
I am classical and pastel, graceful lines, or rubenesque and curved, the definition of beauty and romance.
But whatever I choose to be, the ultimate choice is mine, the portrait I paint and what paints I select.
So come and make your critiques of me, for they make me what I am, for these too are the colours I collect.

For I am a Living Canvas.....and every experience in my life, just adds to the colours I collect.

For all the beautiful works of art on this site who have the courage to paint their lives larger than life with bright colours and bold strokes and become the world's most spectacular masterpieces...not on the world's terms and definitions, but on their own.