The little bluebird, restless artist,
Flew over the orange horizon without restraint.
With his box full of colored pencils,
He thought he could paint the sky in an instant, of course!
But too many pencils and too few wings,
Unbalanced the poor little bird.
So many colors, no coordination,
His creative disaster fell to the ground!
Orange, yellow and red pencils shattered,
While the little blue bird fell in tears.
His celestial dream turned into a nightmare...
Until he saw - a rainbow formed!
From sadness, joy overflowed,
In that magical moment he understood:
It doesn't matter the skill or the tools,
Art comes from the heart, even if messy!
Fat little birds make me smile! The Eastern bluebird is a North American migratory thrush. My subject is a male with the most luxurious neck rolls! Drawn in Prismacolor soft core colored pencils on toned tan sketch paper.
