blatant (adj).

0c5a68fb4b57859f30d51748ceb012f5It feels like everything I make is an attempt to find the way to say, "this is who I am," but let me just give it all away: I am summed up in the ink stain on the edge of my hand (left), the unkempt hair, the furrow in my brow. What I am is the nail polish beginning to chip, eyeliner slightly smudged, every feeling written painfully legible across my face, the clothes, which are mostly for function, and moderately masking. Sore feet (also, stubbed toe), and achy, wide open heart. It is not in the paint that makes it onto the canvas but the paint that is left on my hands that is the window, the glimpse, the hint to let you know it all.