Love of 15 Year Olds

5 years later I no longer recognize the soul living in your body

Just a faint reminder we were once so closely bound by the pain we shared

You mended yourself with the grace of God you so thoroughly believe in

Preaching His greatness, He extracted the drugs from your veins, making them forget their insatiable hunger for all that is bad

I used the art whispered down through generations instead of folktales

The ache still runs through me duller now than it was then

I don’t know if you even remember yours

Our bodies still remember but my soul no longer recognizes yours

We have both healed into better versions of ourselves

Maybe that means forgetting we were once in love – but an artist’s hands never forget

But my heart can



I am but a puzzle of a family of artists and a mentally ill family

I am created of puzzle pieces fitting together, a mosaic of sorts

Coping with mental health via creation

Documentation of storms inside my brain created on paper and canvas

Manic states more than depressive

Mania is filled with color and ideas shifting around trying not to overthrow each other

Depression only looks for the darkness

Either state has me fixate on dying

How afraid of it I am or how I welcome it with open arms

Creating and destroying keep my hands quiet in every moment my brain decides not to be

via Daily Prompt: Create

Daily Prompt: Abide

I was born into a long line of artists – we create in many different means

You see years of hardship and worry worn into our frames

Our hands bear our love of colors and shapes that make this world

We document it in any means we can convey adequately

Many of us push it to the side because we have seen the lives of our flesh trying to live off what makes the world go round

Doing what we love in the free moments and publishing it to the world to consume in moments

Touching them in ways they could never be touched otherwise

We change lives but can only do so when no one is watching

Secrets held in pencil sketches and paint stained clothing

I paint, my mother photographs, her brother sculpts, my grandmother painted, her brother painted, they came from a long line of jewelers

My cousins set up a gallery in an art museum of their own work earning themselves a lifetime ban yet also earning spots on NYC’s most notable artists under 35

But we all have had to take day jobs to live by the standards of a society we shed light on

Our love is poured out not in what our daily pay defines but how we define everything else

We have to abide by rules set up by people who look down on creators like us

But we still find time for what our hands were designated to do

Being born into this family is being born into a line of the world’s movers and shakers doing it all unconventionally

I am honored to be one of them

via Daily Prompt: Abide


Name – Ainslie Eliza

After her grandmother Ainslie Smith Quick

And yes that is spelled the right way

Nickname(s): Ains, Bumslee, Umslee, Frodo, Winslow

A happy child who grew to become a part of a dark epidemic

That of drugs, self harm, alcohol, mental illness, and cigarettes

A rare type of artist

One of a kind

A poet trying to make it in a sea overflowing

On a roller coaster called life

Once crashed now forever going up

Until further notice

Ainslie Eliza

Born July 21, 1997

An artist fighting to be free

Free from life’s shackles

Art 2.0

So not all these pieces were done in the extracurricular art class I’m a part of. Although I did promise yesterday that I would post some more art, preferably from that class. Here’s a piece I did in the class earlier this year.



Here’s a piece I did on my own, I was told it looks like a nucleus or something of that nature.




This piece was done in that class when I was in middle school, I can’t exactly pinpoint the year.




This piece I did on my own the other night when I did a boatload of artwork for the hell of it.



This is the piece I think looks the best of the ones I did the other night for the hell of it. Again this was on my own, not in the class.




I didn’t have more pictures from the class because I couldn’t find many pieces laying around. I hope you like at least one of these pieces.








So me being the artist that I am, I am thinking of a way of getting myself known out there. I am thinking of selling pieces and prints of mine. I have been told that I have a different, and likable style. I apparently have a painting style that many desire. My style has said to be very free. I won a gold key in the New Hampshire Scholastic Awards for one of my pieces. These first few photos I would be willing to make prints of if anyone was interested.



These next few photos I could make some prints of and sell the originals. You can also just look at them for eye candy. Later on I will make a post of pieces I have done in an art class I take outside of school. Those are often much better quality since I am mentored on those pieces. In the class I have done stuff like watercolor on pen and ink (that’s what one a gold key in Scholastics), and a black and white self portrait with one colored focal point. The self portrait isn’t finished yet but I’m up to posting it when it is.



I am also open for requests from people for pieces. I know these aren’t the best quality pieces I have to offer but they’re something. Art is something that helps me release myself. I am thinking of attending an art college if I get in and not into any of the other colleges I want to attend. My next post will probably contain pieces I was mentored on. Credit goes to the poem authors and quoted.