Whenever I go to an art gallery I always get lost in the flow of creativity. All those masterpieces, glowing and glittering around me. How could I not feel inspired? My dad was a painter. Every Spring cleaning we find another Michelangelo book or a compilation of prints he forgot in an old sketchbook or something. I recently found one that says, “Good painting is nothing but a copy of the perfections of God.”
Makes me wonder if words can be as vibrant. To leave the impression of God in words is beautiful. An essence of him permeating from the page. I’m inspired.








