Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Narrative Poem: Fashion Illustration

I sketched.
Non stop, my hand maneuvered
around the white sheet,
creating shapes, and
smooth contour lines.
I was in the zone.

It was almost like a dream,
so simple yet so complex.
I heard voices,
demanding my presence down stairs.
I ignored them all,
too busy to leave behind what I have already
accomplished.

The final touches.
It was divine.
It was complete.
I pin it up to the bare wall,
to watch it from a distance.
Another piece in my collection.

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