“I don’t listen to what art critics say. I don’t know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is.”-JMB
I am art.
Poetry in motion…
Incomprehensible to those who do not understand the language of love.
A beautiful sight to see,
A beautiful mind to behold.
it’s in your eyes…
How you see it?
consider this for a prompt: the team is in the lounge, post practice, just lazing around and doing nothing; the tv is on; no one is really paying attention when andrew suddenly turns rigid; deep breaths; unfocused eyes; the reporter is relaying a shocking revelation about a man abusing the foster kids in his care; hisfacehisfacehisfacetheyareshowinghisface (-i cannot tell why my mind is such an angsty bitch but here we are)