I wanted more sunshine in my life, so I painted my house yellow. I planted rows of sunflowers and batches of yellow zucchini in my garden. I lay down a yellow brick path that led to my bronze plated doorknob. My house was so yellow that you couldn't help but smile when you opened the door. I was spinning in my yellow sundress and twirling with my gold earrings. I ate bananas and popcorn and pineapple and peaches. I had stacks of yellow post-its where I wrote lists of yellow things with my lemon-scented crayons. And then one day, I received a blue package in the mail. I was startled. I opened up the blue box, and a blue butterfly flew out into my yellow palace. I chased the butterfly trying to catch it in my hands. I ran in circles, climbed up trees, stood on tables, and crawled on my knees. I tried so hard to remove the fluttering misfit from my life. Each time I got close, the butterfly would skim gracefully through my fingers. I unwillingly let the outlier stay. He danced and fluttered and brought me a yellow rose. I slowly grew to love this soft blue spot of compassion against my perfect yellow walls.
I saw my image in the glow of the fire. The flame flickered as I disappeared and reappeared. I came and went with each heartbeat. I was here, gone, here, there. I exhaled and the flame flinched backwards then forwards. It lunged towards me and grew bigger. My image became darker and stronger. I could feel myself getting weaker as the flare glowed more intensely. I inhaled and the heat of the fire raged through my lungs. I was warm with fear. I started melting towards the ground in submission to the flame that now towered over me. I curled into a ball with my head on my knees. The black shadow emerged from the flame and rested on top of my rounded spine. I could feel the heaviness of my second self drowning in towards me. I knew the image that escaped from the flame, and now she burned inside of me.
I received a green box for my birthday. I opened it up, and it was empty. The inside walls of the box were so dark that it absorbed my soul. I pulled away but the black force was stronger than my will power. My neck curled down and my body shriveled into a little ball as I rolled into the dark container. I morphed into a transparent mass of feelings drifting inside my new vacant surroundings. I floated around transitioning from one feeling to the next. As I moved, I swept up more feelings inside of me. I was overwhelmed with emotions that could not be contained in such a small space. I started to spill over the walls and spread into the air. I grew larger and more expansive as the feelings swelled up through my skin. I filled the room like an invisible haze that spread into every empty space. I dominated the air swirling around with hundreds of feelings. I spiraled faster and faster like a tornado until all the feelings got sucked back into the box and the lid snapped shut. The inside of the box remained black and empty. The feelings vanished, and I went with them.
I looked into the mirror and I saw myself dissolve. I disappeared into a faint white fog. I stared harder into the glass and I began to come back. I was wrapped in a soft pale red. I reached out to touch myself and the color melted through my hand. I wanted more and I grabbed the red wrap and pulled it out from the mirror. I wrapped the delicate scarf around my shoulders. I felt calm and beautiful. I looked into the empty mirror and I started to see a darker red forming with hard edges. It was the color of deep red wine. I poked it gently and it stained my fingers. The blood red shadow quickly spread along my arm. I shook my arm to get the color off and finally the bleeding stopped. I was startled. I looked into the mirror again and I started to reappear. I stepped backwards desperate for one red and afraid of the other at the same time. I turned around and walked away with a blanket of love around my shoulders hiding the burns of anger on my arm.
I stole some paintings from a buffalo cave. I had three beautiful pieces of art framed in my living room. They were ancient drawings of different shapes etched into bark each in a monochrome color palette. It was clearly done by the artesian buffalo breed that had a creative bent. I imagined they would carve the shapes with their horns and mix flowers and leaves for pigments. I was certain that my paintings were done by female buffaloes because they were in pinks and purples. I was moving so I decided to sell my buffalo paintings. I put an ad on Craigslist under authentic ancient buffalo art. I had tons of inquiries because pink buffalo paintings are super popular. The first person that came to see the paintings was the father of a small girl who lived a few blocks away. He asked me if I wanted to expand my collection. Surprised and slightly tempted, I said yes. Maybe I did have room for an entire wall of buffalo paintings after all! I went to his house and the walls were full of art similar to the pieces that I had in my living room. I looked outside and saw a small girl painting raw formed shapes on trees with a brush. I found the buffalo artist.
I fell into the drama pool. As soon as I hit the water, I became detached and helpless. I plunged further into blue despair and the solitude seeped deeper into my soul. My skin hallowed out and my stomach caved into emptiness. I closed my eyes convinced I was invisible. I pushed myself to the surface and pulled myself out of the pool. Immediately, I felt a rush of love wrap around me. My heart grew warmer and my skin started to glow. I opened up my eyes and I felt whole. I was tempted to throw myself into the drama pool again. This time I dove into the water and I craved the vastness of the sun. My hands reached out like spiders casting a net to grab specific traits from people I knew. I felt insecure and resentful as I rose up to the top of the pool. I climbed out and a flood of calmness washed over me. I was happy right where I was standing. I walked away from the drama pool. I could feel the residue from the first round of loneliness and the second dip of envy. I continued walking with these mixed feelings that were gone but had soaked deep into my skin.
I found a book at the library titled, "How to be an artist". I always dreamed of being an artist. I had this little creative cocoon in my heart that was desperate to emerge. I grabbed the book and ran home to read it. I was absorbed by the pages and traveled inside the pictures. I returned several hours later bubbling with ideas and images. My heart was fluttering and I danced to the library to get more books. I took home books on arts and crafts and painting and drawing. I carried home books on origami and collage and stencils and acrylics. I was spinning with joy as my house overflowed with how-to books on creativity. I started to work my way through one pile at a time. Twenty piles later, I was drowning in books and sinking into other people’s imagination. I had so many ideas that I had no idea where to start. I was trapped in towers of creative knowledge. I left my house and went outside with my sketchbook. I forgot everything I learned from all the books, and started drawing the little creative butterfly bursting out from inside of me.
I walked through a purple mirror. My skin tinted to lavender, and my hair turned to a deep shade of burgundy wine. I blended into the pastel colored air almost disappearing except for my dark hair. I saw purple people running around purple streets in purple shoes with purple feet. I walked through amethyst layered gardens and passed by rows of plum-fairy palaces. I hopped across lilac stones and skipped through fields of violets. I danced under the dark raspberry sun. I ate plums and grapes as I planned my escape. I tried to go back through the mirror, but the deep fuchsia force kept pushing me away. I was battling against a monochromatic monster that had a predilection for mauve. I decided to use my secret weapon, an orange hidden in my pocket. I held it up to the purple mirror, and the mirror freaked out and dissolved into a pale white mist. I ran through the fog and I was back into my colorful world once again.
I found a lucky blue feather. It was pointy and soft, and I wore it in my hair. I let the feather lead me and tell me what to do. I made decisions based on how my feather was leaning in the wind. I followed my feather and it never let me down. I was walking through the forest trails, and I found another feather. This one was a gorgeous green isosceles triangle. I added this new, perfect feather to my hair. At that moment, I could feel myself torn into two directions. I was no longer light and carefree. I was heavy and burdened and didn’t know what to do. I wanted to continue skipping towards the water, but the green feather assured me that it was going to rain. The blue feather reminded me of how much I loved dancing in puddles, but the green feather told me that I would ruin my new shoes. I tip-toed a little further along the path and listened to the feathers fighting in my hair. I was allured by the perfect green but attached to my flowy blue. I pulled the green feather out of my hair and tossed it away in the wind. I danced in the rain with the blue feather in my hair ruining my new shoes and I couldn’t have been happier.
I built a pet dragon out of mismatched socks. He was different shades of green with a long neck and tail. He was soft and squishy and made for a good pillow. I told him all my worries. He ate them up, always hungry if I had more. If he ever looked thin, I would feed him more of my fears. I dragged him everywhere, so he was always dirty by the end of the week. I would throw him in with my laundry and he returned fresh and clean again. I told him my greatest fear which was being left all alone. His neck turned down as he swallowed that thought and stuffed it inside of him. This giant-sized fear filled him up so much that his green sock skin started to stretch thin. I felt a flood of all my anxious thoughts rushing back towards me. I became worried and panicked all over again. I held my puffy dragon close to my chest. I started crying when I noticed a small hole in his heart. The fears were escaping. I sewed him together, and my worry dragon held all my fears for me once again.