Author's Note: After seeing John Wilde's Wisconsin Wild World, this huge inspiration came to me for the poem. I saw the artist as having kind of a higher position than the people below him and him pointing towards the sky. Then on one side of his hand is what looked like reality and what life really is, and on the other is probably how the way artist's view the world with the natural beauty of human body (thus the bare women) and nature at its prime.
My hands are the creator of this world that I in vision, and call my own.
My eyes are the leader to an existence none of other can view.
I am the color and the basics.
The illustrator of nature's true form.
Paint runs through my veins and exits through my brush.
Strokes of light and darkness are born.
Artist is my name.
Artist is my label.
I love this poem, how it cycles down to the tapered lines at the end. It gives this real dramatic flair to the piece. I wish I could see the art that inspired it too.
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