They say a picture speaks a thousand words, but what if I could paint a picture with my words better than a photo ever could? A wall of text, a lost art… my only art. My pen is my paintbrush and blank sheets of blissfully white paper are my canvas. They cry to me to paint them with my opinions. I need only dip my quill deep into my mind where the real ink lies. I do not bleed my soul onto a page, but instead I throw up my passion and wipe my mouth carelessly with a backhand of finality. You may search for an image here, but the only photo you will find here is my written heart. I am a writer.