His head was a mess.
Splatters of paint were what made up his inside keepsakes, ranging from the purest of black inks which stood for the darkest secrets he wouldn't utter to a soul to deeply hidden traces of pale blue that held as a representation for the childhood wonder he had tried so hard to hold on to.
The outlines in fainted pencil amongst the corners were what always brought his high moments back down to the ground. These were the ideas that he had the intention towards finishing, but that last spark that tied everything together perfectly had yet to make its debut.
Smears of potential were cast within the middle of the massacre, some broken down to the point where making out their meaning was down right impossible to ones freshly spread on which as of now were still a work in progress.
Whether he be in slumps wondering what was considered enough to unveil to the world or searching through the depths of himself seeking that last piece for his latest project, all he needed to be brought back from his tangled mess of a mind was someone with an artistic touch of their own.
While he made melodies of magic, they had photographs as their outlook for creating art they could forever look back on.
A method that always managed to take him away from his pieces was the sound of their camera's documentation of his doings. He was secretly glad for these instances. While the two of them were passionate beyond belief over their crafts, even they deserved the chance to truly live. After all, not everything life offers is able to be captured.
