Virtuoso

"Paintings have a life of their own that derives from the painter's soul." ― Vincent Van Gogh

There were words in his colors textures woven into words composing tales and dialogues visually rousing riffs unheard

The sound of his knife pushing paint all around reds bright, dots of light on soft sensual mounds

The dance has just begun from memory to fresco each stroke with intention maintaining the tempo

If paintings were symphonies

and soca filled the canvas

these soulfully vivid dreams

can wipe away any sadness

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