Art 4 Art

Please, if you haven't done so already, check out my best friend, Sarah's, new blog Art 4 Art. She's inviting anyone to choose a piece of Canadian music and create another piece of art, be it words, images, or even more music, that is inspired by the song. Basically, she's creating a community of artists inspiring other artists. There has already been a ton of amazing contributors, including my friend's Suzanne, Tara and Dominique. You can find my contributions here and here. Feel free to contact Sarah if you want to take part in her amazing project!

Tulips

Tulips, red and yellow, sit on the kitchen table as slices of sunlight stream through the blinds and rest on the petals. Look up to the white light and watch little specks dance in and around the darkness. The blinds need dusting and the windows need wiping, trivial tasks that somehow slip my mind; they are too commonplace for this cultivated life. You'd say the room is bright enough, but you are not here and there is nothing to be heard. The tea I drink and the cookies that sit in ceramics need company, your company. I wish you were here to admire the tulips and the specks that float through this place, because this is endless.

Anything to make you smile

Have you ever thought that maybe this isn't real? That perhaps we're fooling ourselves because there's nothing else. Could we be pretending to be in love when in reality we're not? Perhaps I've become so accustomed to your fingers entangled with mine that I can't have it any other way. Maybe I can't bear to wake up beside someone else's body or brush someone else's cheek. For all I know, I can't be without your lips, your eyes, your arms, and your love. Am I sincere? I can't even tell. Theoretically speaking, what if I were to go, leave your embrace and look for something else. Would I find something better? How would I know?

Would you fight to keep me or would you step aside? Would you beg me to stay or not say a word?

I'm going now. I've packed my things. I'm putting my jacket on and reaching for the door. Stop me now, before it's too late. I'm walking over the threshold. Stop me, dammit. Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm beautiful. Tell me there's no one else. Tell me you want to grow old with me. Tell me. Tell me you'll marry me and keep me warm on winter nights. Tell me you'll hold my hand on walks to the market. Tell me you'll make me breakfast on Sundays and kiss my lips as we stand in sunbeams.

I love you. You're beautiful.

Sometimes, love doesn't cut it.