ART BY Ib noir
The idea was here, and my mind was clear. Art I wanted to make, to let my visions escape. I knew what I had to do, but my hands didn't have a clue.
To change perceptions of dark colors I needed the hands of others.
To give birth to my dream, I needed a team. The search began, my quest to find a supporting hand.
Hours and hours on planes with nervous hope in my veins. I searched and spoke to all kinds of folk. The unending miscommunication, pushing me further into frustration. My cigarette smoke had more substance than my hopes.
At the moment I felt most blue, suddenly there was you.
A great friendship began with a wonderful man. He can paint and he can laugh, and suddenly the dream is in draft.
He can see the pictures in my mind, his inspiring hands drawing my lines. Creativity began to flow and a tear left my eye when people saw the beauty that was created by him and I.