From the young tender age of 2

I was fascinated by what these hands could do

With these hands, I have clenched the tightest fist

Climbed the tallest tree and painted what only

These eyes could see

I remember sitting down in the hot sweltering heat

Ripping endless amounts of newspaper with the

mosquitoes nibbling at my feet

Searching for the pieces to complete my very first masterpiece

This collage was the embodiment of my mother

All she was and what she was yet to be

Better hurry now, my grandmother says it’s time to eat

Winter came swiftly and fast.

I returned to a land that I saw in vivid dreams

And cried for what was known to me

In my drawings, I felt seen and relied on

My pencil to help me make sense of

The strange new world that was to become home to me

Oh, pencil, my pencil,

The way you glide on the sheet of paper with every quick stroke

Capturing all my thoughts and emotions, I didn't know how to show

You and I were the dream team

The one that helped shape me

I got older and went to college

Met new people and tried new things

Along the way, I met an artist who taught me how to paint

I admit oil painting is a challenge for me, to say the least

It was a give-and-take relationship 

The paint was so smooth and buttery

And often bend to my every whim 

Yet there was still so much for me to learn 

About my friend, oil paint

As time went on, I delved into other forms of art-making

And found a true passion for ceramics

As my hands tugged and pulled at the clay

I feel a sense of calmness wash off me

I am at ease

There is no limitation to my creativity