The Artist

The artist picked up his brush and began to paint his people an array or colors. Each individual with a uniqueness, each different from the others.

Throughout time his masterpiece became messy. The colors of the piece began to mix ending up messy. But the artist still loved it.

He knew the people in his artwork were painted beautifully in the beginning and that the piece had become messy. What others considered ugly and unfixable he considered absolutely beautiful. So he loved it anyway.

No matter the mess the artist still loved his artwork. No matter the messiness he still loved his creation. No matter how messed up each individual in the painting was, each was apart of what he considered art, his masterpiece was an astounding crazy mess. But his love still remained.

- A