one day i wil have a room whos walls are filled with canvus apon canvus. and whos scent is of oak and accrilic. this room shall be the only room who knows the depth of my dreams. no ears shall hear but His, no heart shall delight as does mine, but His as He watches my strokes become permanent reminders of the joy that must forever be hidden till the day when it finally explodes at the feet of my True Father as i lay them at His feet. then, shall my attempts be made perfect, and my incomplete, be completed. This day where no more ponder shall cross my brow, but only in fullness shall they lie upon my heart exposed for all to see the beauty hidden in His thoughts.