Self expression. Pen to paper. Brush to Canvas. Through the senses we have this incredible drive to create something.
Words rise from the pages.
Giving life to the dream, the Idea,
“It’s Alive!”
A need, a wanting from within.
Some would say to feed the soul.
Losing that ability to create is apicture of so many restless souls lingering in the streets like zombies lurking in an alley way.
Or walking onto a train, ferry or bus.
Locked in gridlock.
Once young and hungry with their art… they lost their dream and like some of us, they lost themselves in the rat race. If your sipping your coffee reading this, Find yourself again. Pick up that Guitar or Pen.
Sing your song in traffic.
Short Story: A young someone had set aside their dream. Left it behind in an old guitar case. Years passed. Then they went to see their friend’s dreams. They stood watching, happy for their friends. They realized, it was a deep part of them. Change had to happen.
They opened that old guitar case after that night, realizing their love for music.
That someone has now reached countless young lives throughout the years to
Believe in themselves.
Until next tide,
BARNACLE
