Darling. Has no one ever told you. Some things are too beautiful to be art. Some things are not meant to be held captive by canvas, drawn and painted by another’s hand, only to be forgotten for the next pretty thing that inspires that hand. You are not art because you are more than art.
You are not art because you are too much, too real, too alive. Art cannot bleed the way you do. Or love the early mornings or the night sky. Or feel the truth of every storm reverberate in its very heart. You deserve more than a fleeting glance, a cursive look or a critical gaze. You deserve to be held, to be looked upon as an adventure, to enjoy and be enjoyed.
You are nothing static. You are a breathing reflection of everything the universe has to offer. A song sung into existence by so much more than inspiration. It took six million years of evolution to build you, to bring you to this moment – so much more than any artist could ever spare for even the greatest of his masterpieces. You are a multitude of majestic feelings, every single one, once felt, never felt again in the same magnitude. You are the millions of things that happen to you in your lifetime.
And no piece of art can boast of those feelings, or experiences.
2087
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
gamechangershow
pixelskylines
titsay
