The steady hum ,

the consistent stitching.

What seems to have been a million parts is now

One.

It slips over a form,

curves and drapes and ruches.

From sketch to sculpture,

garments become art.

I furiously scribble

down the ideas

the feelings,

the thoughts.

They travel

from the deep recesses of my mind

searching for an exit;

they find their way onto paper,

to be transferred,

dissected,

then put back together.

Metamorphosis.

No longer scraps,

they now have purpose

And so do I.

Empowered by the challenge inherent in Creativity

(although abused and neglected by society,

but can cultivate a giddy happiness that emanates like light from the sun),

I find fulfillment in fashion design.

Schools might be far,

money might be scarce,

support may be limited,

but I will work to get there,

not alone or on my own.

I know what I want to be.

I just don’t know who I’ll become.