Here,

         I sit,

in the hush of my studio.

The light dances through windows.

Dust motes swirl in silent symphony.

Here,

        I stand,

before the void.

A canvas, 

stark and unyielding. 

It beckons.

A silent challenge to the tempest of thoughts that rage within my mind's eye. 

Here,

        I sit,

in this sanctum of creativity.

I am both master and servant.

I am bound by the desire to transmute the intangible into tangible.

Here,

        my hands, 

though mere vessels of flesh and bone, tremble with the power of creation. 

Here,

       with each stroke, 

a piece of my soul melds with pigment and fiber, 

a delicate ballet of mind-commanding matter. 

Here,

        the colors blend and bleed, 

not just hues from a palette, 

but the very essence of my dreams, fears, and desires laid bare.

Here,

        this canvas, 

once an expanse of nothingness, 

becomes a cosmos birthed from the depths of my psyche. 

Here, 

        dragons take flight in skies lit by imagination's fire, 

oceans churn with the turmoil of unspoken emotions, 

and forests grow from the seeds of my wildest fantasies. 

Here,

        each creation, 

a testament to the triumph of will over the physical,

a declaration that within my realm, the ethereal shapes the real.

Here,

        in this sacred act of creation, 

I am a conduit for the unseen forces that dwell in the spaces between thoughts and reality. 

Here,

         the brush in my hand moves with a life of its own, 

guided by a force that knows no boundaries, 

no laws of physics or constraints of time. 

It is pure expression, 

a dialogue between the world as it is and as it could be, 

shaped by nothing but the power of my will.

"Mind over matter," 

                              they say, 

yet here in my studio, 

it is more than a saying,

it is the very air I breathe,

the essence of my being. 

Here,

        I do not conquer the canvas; 

I liberate it, 

transforming blankness into a portal to worlds unseen, 

proving that within the confines of my mind lies the key to infinite realms.

Here,

         as I lay down my brush, 

stepping back to behold the creation that was once trapped within the confines of my mind, 

I understand. 

This is not just art; 

it is a revelation, 

a whisper from the soul that speaks of the boundless potential that resides within us all. 

Here, 

        in the silent communion between creator and creation, 

I find my truth,

the undeniable power of mind over matter, 

where imagination reigns supreme, 

and reality is but clay in the hands of the dreamer.

Here,

               mind is over matter.