Exquisite Blemish

Exquisite Blemish

Atarah Redmon

A void canvas.

The candid strokes of hand it demanded, yet –

with graphite suspended  my thoughts descended to a time when I abandoned the image I desired to compose.

Sketch. Blend. Erase. Again.

Sketch. Blend. Erase. Again, I –

obliterated everything I perceived as a flaw.

Deceived by uncertainty and too naïve to trust my thoughts on paper,

I lay my pencil down with the excuse that my canvas was raw.

In disbelief, the idea of quitting permeated my thoughts.

I conceived this foolish notion –

looking back, I question where I got the audacity to ask myself

“Can I… even draw?”

Today, I see more than just vague streaks and opaque lines.

I see where reserved indifference meets an open-mind;

where insecurities were shed so my soul could be realigned with a rejuvenated body and secure mind.

Not only have I redefined what it means to have passion,

I see where my astute thoughts complement those formally indecisive actions.

Where creativity is no longer confined and I understand what was inconceivable before –

couldn’t be expressed in traditional signs.

Today this is the fundamental law…

No matter how many mistakes are made the message can’t be diminished;

especially when who you were reflects who you are in such an exquisite blemish.