An artist in the Wishing

I often wish I was an artist
-For it would give me a reason to be in solitude,
     long periods of solitude
without feeling alone
 for I often feel alone, though I am not

[I do like to think I am one-an artist]

But I mean
I wish I was an artist
    where that is my life,
my food,
my source of sustenance

Like the gifted, unbelievably talented artists of our mankind

You see,
It’s a love hate relationship
Looking at their work- these of the gifted artists
I love to look at them because
-they are so beautiful
           so moving
           So real
I hate to look at it because
I cannot do it,
Because it reminds me that I am no artist
 [ not like the gifted ]

As an artist,
I find I am drawn to faces
And to the skies

-To faces because maybe I am fascinated with humans
The way they think
         Why they do things
         Their train of thoughts that lead to a certain action ..or inaction
    As well as their physical features
          How the features all add up to produce whatever beauty the face may                    possess

-To the skies because it’s the place we look up to
 The place of our hopes and dreams
          The place where anything is possible
           The place we turn to in desperate cry for the Creator
As well as the physical beauties of it all
           the myriad of colours it possess on different days
               how those colours came to be
           the endless motion of the sky yet being the same one sky
           the wonder that separates us from the chaotic and dangerous beauties of
the blackness out there

Maybe my fascination with faces and the skies  is simply this
-Faces.. because faces are the way we naturally identify humans
    the people I seek an escape from
-And the skies..because the sky is the place where you are free
    the place where I seek to escape to
Both evade me[the escape]

And I am no artist
Though I would like to think I was one