Beneath the dust

I found my forte, my special place. I discovered chalk art and have fallen in love. It happened when I came across a set of pastels buried somewhere in the mess that is my room. I was searching for my favorite pen, while coincidently doing some homework. I think the attention disorder that I tell myself I have so I feel good kicked in. Whatever I might have been doing was lost. It was one of those points where there is that song that we all have comes into your mind. It drowns out all the doubt and anything else. Anyway, I took my pastels, all perfect from never being used and left to a quiet spot. I found the kitchen. With that song in my head I gingerly removed the shiny wrapper, which I might have played with for five minutes. With the chalk scraping the paper, my hand let itself go to work. In minutes I had something going; a good start. But it needed more. It needed that unique attribute. With discouragement at hand, I was ready to just quit. But the universe had something else on the table. As I was turning toward the window that faced me, this light surged through the thick tint. It blotted out every dark cloud and every plant on the outside world. My inspiration was a moment of luck, perhaps some fortunate karma. I added a twist to my painting, and it was light that complimented the dusty medium. Since my first my moment, I have oft dabbled in the chalk. It might be that it has won the special place as my favorite, or that I love to make a mess. Either of these reasons may have equipped me with the desire to engulf my world in art. Whatever purpose it serves I have found the wonder of self expression and individuality. I have found something else to add to who I am.