I want my magic back. . .
Why is it that when I am writing beautifuly, I can’t draw to save my life.
And when I draw well, my pictures are shitty.
And when I take amazing snap shots, I can’t write a story.
It’s like I can only do one thing at a time and I can’t choose the phases.
My camra is sitting on a shelf.
My pencils are somewhere on this desk.
My paint is drying up.
My notebooks are marked up with homework.