Plato
...uld only imagine my willingness to go. Never being espically talented with artistic expression, perhaps i held a certain biast towards those who could so perfectly put a picture to paper or a figure to stone, but as i let my guard down something behind the beauty started to shine. However, that new something wasn't enough to bring me to tears as i'd wittnessed my parents do, becasue it still seemed to simple and insignificant. In my teens i began to notice that art could be found in places other than creeky wooden-flooler muesums, and figured graffiti or radical looking houses could have just as much creative thought put into them as the framed sunset i saw the week before. But, with more thought came more questions and a crave to understand if what i was looking at was just a collage of colors or the cunning craft we call art. After reading...