Sprout
the bold sprout erupts
stretching itself to the sky
first true leaves spread wide
About the Creator
Sean
A lover of soft cheese and delayed gratification. I prefer plants to people, more often than not. Dirt is my medicine and filth a form of therapy. Most of these words should find a home among compost but hey, at least I'm still writing.
Where there's Art there's Heart
Here's a stupid thing: I adore art, but I start to panic whenever I step into a gallery. In the one place I should be at my contented best - surrounded by walls teeming with creative expression - I fall apart. What ought to be an enriching experience, tacitly designed to facilitate the exploration of human empathy and perspective, is for me an overwhelming purgatory of anxiety that compresses me to the point I cannot breathe. At the same time, I experience a sense of extraction, as though my head is being prized open to create a hole so big my sanity could evaporate. Somewhere between these two opposing forces of vice and vortex, I feel myself dissolving in a stream of panic that makes me want to cry; and I feel so daft feeling this way, that all I want to do is run for the hills.
By Caroline Jane7 days ago in Humans
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