Anyone who knows me knows I'm shy. For me, that feeling of panic that takes hold whenever I have to attend a large gatherings of strangers compares to nothing else. It's a very individual, distinct nausiating feeling, much different from the feeling of nerves when about to go on a roller coaster, but very similar (though not the same) to the feeling of stepping onto a brightly lit stage (which I do suprisingly often...) But I'm not a hermit and I try very hard to conquer said feelings (which I obviously can do, as I do have friends.) Now what does art have to do with this? I've found art (though not usually of the painting and drawing kind) to be a lovely escape for me. When I find myself lost in a wonderful work of literature,or engrossed in a fantastic movie, or am flipping through fashion magazines, or perhaps writing a story of my very own, I get lost in a world away from the pressures of everyday life, away from due dates and social calls and practices and stress, stress, stress. The girls in the magazines worry only for their hair. Harry has no worry for school, and only for adventure. Alice could care less about parties. Bella cares for nothing but love. And Seth spends his days surrounded by love, and chaos, and art. So why can't I be these"people" a while, with their fairy troubles, and dragons, and strange creatures of the night? I want to be a different shy, like a fairy is shy. I want these troubles, because the grass does look greener on the other side.
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