Hil

I believe God gave me life and he watches over me, If not then why is it that all I set my heart to do seems to fall into place. My art work speaks for itself. so what is my purpose under the sun? When I take to the field I kinder feel lyk I was born to dance with a ball. Give me a paper and the emotion brougth forth is lyk nothing I'v felt before, even may heart is jealous of the works of ma hands. The pencil, the paper, the hand all seem telepathic.... My Art Protrays a God Given talent.. the witty brain I posses can not fathom the milestones riched in my life...But what have I done to please my maker........More shall follow

why did the chicken cross the road

why did the chicken cross the road, a lota folks say. However I thik the real question is why are there no dead chickens laying dead a long or off the road as there are racoons squirals cats etc