A Piste. A Paintbrush. A Point

“Un, deux trois, aller!” the referee calls.

My legs move forward. Quickly. Methodically. Gracefully -- almost

Like a ballerina striding across the stage

My stage, however, is not a dance floor

It is metal. Durable. And incredibly scratched from the aftermath of vicious attacks.

It is a canvas torn with the points of paintbrushes that have come before. It is --

The mighty fencing piste

Fencing is an art --

The point of my sword, a paintbrush, gliding smoothly

In hopes of getting a point, to feel --

The rush, the thrill, the excitement, the joy

To feel the tidal wave wash over me

As a painter is free, their art a mirror of themselves, so too am I -- my mind, my emotions,


My white jacket and pants is not simply white, but splattered --

With bursts of colour, memories, defeats and victories

I am one with this art. It is me, and I, it.

Now to move on to the next masterpiece...


Please contact us regarding any inquiries about the project, events, or sponsorship. If you would like to submit your personal story or any informative article, please email us.            

Making others more physically active, one step at a time

© 2018 by The Active Mental Health Initiative Team

  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon