Reddish blots resembling blood. Dead eyes of children with their lifeless bodies. Time suspended in an instant, could be good or bad the creator of these paintings doesn’t care. The creatures and inhabitants like a man born blind have had their fate decided. Like it or not that’s your life now.

I find this rather sad and also joyous that I feel for once a connection, I see people who are well, like me.

The alarm on my watch is ringing suddenly. “Oh my god please just quieten down little one”, I whisper while tapping the digital clock face like it’s a pesky pet.

A weird ancient man with young eyes and a magnificent beard rushes towards me. Not shouting but attracting attention in a very hush-hush setting. His voice sounds panicked but is drowned out due to my realisation and horror. “They’re fake!”, I roar scaring a few seniors near me, who was staring at a painting of a boy hiding under the bed from an approaching monster. While I’m looking at an equally unsettling one of a circus performance, a sad juggling clown, a caged lion, a seal jumping through a ring of fire because he has to.

I now feel myself being restrained by the wannabe wizard, I didn’t want to but I felt this realisation was too important so I punched him instantly, maybe so hard he turned young again. I hear shrieks and cautious murmurs. I step closer now than before. “They’re moving”, my wide eyes follow all the acts in motion, repeating their performances again and again. “Are you speaking to me?”, I press my ear to the canvas. “I can do it can't I?”, this realisation and burst of power makes me dig my nails into the weak canvas.

I’m now being restrained to the floor by several security guards but that doesn’t bother me, I’m now free.

This feeling doesn’t go away later when I’m enclosed in my small house of white. I remember what the sad clown, caged lion and scared seal said. “Your power is true and good, you can escape, you can be free”.

I stand tall and with ease simply defy all understandings of physics and faze through my fancy jacket that keeps my arms suspended. Silly, how am I going to create a painting of my own without the tools to do so? I raise my palm and envision a door to appear in the wall facing the blue and green of nature. Freedom. My soon-to-be masterpiece.