Evolution of the Compilation

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“A Compilation”

This was the title I gave to that small, black composition notebook,

Waiting to be filled and yearning for the art that would flow from

My hand to the pen to the page

In the following days, months, and years,

Because what did I have to fear?

After all, this was personal. Mine.

Why share the depths of your soul?

 

But oh, how I have evolved.

 

Art is meant to be heard, to be shared

Passions cannot go unnoticed in this world.

I see the fire in your eyes when you speak about the new Rubik’s cube in your collection.

I hear the excitement in your voice when you’ve found a new musical artist.

So why was I so afraid that my words would be heard,

That someone could ever feel something from hearing my own feelings,

That my art could really be classified as such?

But there are no qualifications.

 

Your heart has its own way of making itself known.

It is shown in all of the things you do,

Breaks through, even when you don’t want it to.

This is how I have changed.

My words have evolved from that first page.

I’ve let my heart take control,

My soul aiding in the process,

My art stemming from what I truly am,

Allowing my hand to flow more naturally-

Me, becoming a better version of the person I once was.

 

Oh, how I have evolved.

 

Who I am is no longer a stationary entity.

I’ve moved, shifted, and flipped to a new page,

And each new page is an opportunity

Waiting to be taken,

I’ve taken this one to recognize the demise of my fears of making my art anything but private.

I am anything but quiet.

 

Oh, how I have evolved.

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