I want to paint

the velocity of an arrow, soaring through the mist to reach its destination,

the tension of copper and gold being pressed together to produce a shimmering metal – bronze,

the heat of liquid bronze, slowly oozing onto the mould, supporting the metal; a parent of some sorts,

the confidence of an archer, sweating and anxious to take the wonderful win for the team,

the relief of getting a bullseye on the treacherous target that was nicknamed, ‘death’s point’ because of its difficulty

and the image of an arrow, implanted precisely into a bronze rod with a lone hole for the projectile to fit into it as perfectly as bread crumbs and chicken.

I want to paint

a red rose seed riding the wind whilst looking down, preparing to land, a plane coming in to its runway to end the flight,

the smile of a girl whimsically skipping whilst accidentally trampling the beautiful rose garden

and the asinine reality of certain people harming crops that people have worked hard for, for generations.

I want to paint the ending to this.