Writing is painting the picture of me on a blank canvas. Moving away from the chaos of life, I can hear the almost inaudible voice of my soul. Then I reach for confidence to follow the paintbrush wherever it flows, sometimes painting dewdrops and other times thunderstorms. Colors of emotions, experiences, conversations melt together until I step away resisting the urge to tweak it once again. I take a deep equally satisfying and terrifying breath, as I realize my heart is free, no longer trapped in my chest. I’ve turn myself inside out and share my soul with the world.