Analysis of Art

Why does it feel so Titanic
To turn nature to art?
Is it pencil, pen or painting
Which I shall start?

Every brush of my hand
Seems elementary, bland;
Every line drawn from view
Seems to curve oh so skew;

I feel like ripping my canvas
For what I see is pathetic;
Oh Van Gogh, if only I had
That tortured genius so sad;

At the moment though, I press
On to master my craft;
Perhaps someday they'll rest
In smiling hands, and a nod ...