Your sky is grey and I will paint it the most delicate yet brilliant shade of blue and show you how to create your own clouds.
Your nights refuse to end so I watercolor you the most breathtaking sunrise that even the sun pauses to admire her own beauty.
Your day drags on and on before I sketch you the 3 A.M. sky, speckled with stars and your own constellations.
Your flowers refuse to bloom so I sculpt you a field of oversized pastel chrysanthemums.
I will paint for you, draw for you, sculpt for you until you learn to hold the brush on your own. Until then, we will teach each other.
Porcelain Prose 