Friday, August 20, 2010

The Work Of Art

The brush flew over the pale canvass lazily. The tint darkened with each stroke. The babyish glow turned to a faint blush, delicate and flattering against the pallor. The artist kept on working to get the desired shade. The brush swept and rose, swept and rose for the last time; perfection reached. She looked it into the mirror and smiled at her work of art.


  1. very interesting, Mia.. she painted her own face? or was she wanting to look only at one half?

    thoughtful TT this..


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