Diary of an Artist.

Awake.

Sketchbook pages by Rebecca Entwistle Art

I’ve awakened from my depressed slumber, like a sloth I slowly, painfully, crawled up, up and out. Up past the trees and into the air so fresh and crisp it slaps the stale air out of my lungs, and as I gasp for a new breath, I’m met with a rush of coolness down my throat, awakening my organs, my skin, my senses.

I’m alive, and aware of where and what I am, soft grey, dank caverns are now…