Everything I have grown up believeing in summed up pretty well by the artist. Children aren’t blank slates you can fill your desires in, they can colour themselves… strokes of red and magenta, faces smiling and faces in thought.
I was always hell bent on finding my way and I think I am still painting the mural that is me. Let everyone have that freedom. The poem below yearns for this freedom: Do not tell me what to be, tell me how I can be best at what I want to be.
My fate is not engraved
On the stone of life
Why do others decide?
How do they have the right?
I write my own story
As I grow
I build myself each moment,
With each fact I encounter, each person I know
Stronger than the stone
Who tried to decide what I should be
I stand here today,
Self-written, independent and free
Let the bounds that hold you break.
Let the shell you are in degrade,
Forget the engravement and you’ll clearly see
Who you really wish to be.