Poems and Palettes

As I sat painting on Tuesday morning my partner sat writing. It is nice to see him getting back into his world of words; his passion.

He wrote as he watched me paint and listened to me asking myself questions, at times directing them his way, not necessarily expecting any answers.

His response came in the form of prose as he read this to me...

She is painting
Mixing colours
Will I have pink lips or red lips?
Questions like these are such a pleasure
On a hot day
In January

Of course I don’t answer
Straight away
Give it time
My old head tells me
No sense jumping into anything
No sense making a mess
Of such a beautiful day

Well…
Are those ones pink?
I point to a completed piece
Yes…
With a hint of disbelief
Can’t you tell?

I ended up going with pink, but I am still not entirely sure they will stay that colour. They may change yet.

I dyed my hair black this morning, in order to closer resemble my image on canvas, well, partly...and partly because I enjoy having black hair. I have dyed it on a regular basis since the age of 14.

I was born with a mop of jet black hair, but it all fell out, then grew back much fairer.

I think I am happier with black hair.
Now I just have to decide on the lips.

Choice. It's all about choice.