The Artist....
A Monet, capturing the serenity of the scene in oils on canvas. A van Gogh, capturing the the essence of a man in charcoal and ink. A telephone by Salvidor Dali, linking the aphrodisiac qualities of food with an instrument that, in its own right, can be an instrument of sex. And many others I have not heard of before, shaping, coloring, painting molding, chipping away and then placing it in a perfect arrangement. For the casual onlooker a beauty that cannot be explained, for the one who contemplates meaning in every nuance of color, line or shape. Such is the world of the art.
To be able to mix paint into various shades of color and then apply it to the canvas and capture a moment in time, or to chip away at a block of marble to reveal the sculpture trapped within or to mold a piece of clay in the shape it wants to be. To weave threads of silk into the pattern it yearns to be, or thread a bead into its place of belonging. This is the genius of the artist.
To be able to see the world with different eyes and to be able to create something that mirrors that view of the world. To be able to say so much with things that seem so ordinary and that we take for granted in our day to day existence. To be able to take a simple hammer and chisel and bring forth lines and shapes that please the eye. To be able to do this is special indeed.
To all the artists out there, I salute you!
But to the greatest Artist of all, the One who paints the sky in shades of orange when the sun sets, and shades of red when it rises. Who sculpts the mountains with wind and rain. Who paints the landscapes with reliefs of trees and shrubs and the blue of the oceans. Who mixes the various colors of the flowers and scents the air with its fragrance. Who creates the media show, animated with man and beast, the show we call life.
To Him I bow my head in total adoration :-)
To be able to mix paint into various shades of color and then apply it to the canvas and capture a moment in time, or to chip away at a block of marble to reveal the sculpture trapped within or to mold a piece of clay in the shape it wants to be. To weave threads of silk into the pattern it yearns to be, or thread a bead into its place of belonging. This is the genius of the artist.
To be able to see the world with different eyes and to be able to create something that mirrors that view of the world. To be able to say so much with things that seem so ordinary and that we take for granted in our day to day existence. To be able to take a simple hammer and chisel and bring forth lines and shapes that please the eye. To be able to do this is special indeed.
To all the artists out there, I salute you!
But to the greatest Artist of all, the One who paints the sky in shades of orange when the sun sets, and shades of red when it rises. Who sculpts the mountains with wind and rain. Who paints the landscapes with reliefs of trees and shrubs and the blue of the oceans. Who mixes the various colors of the flowers and scents the air with its fragrance. Who creates the media show, animated with man and beast, the show we call life.
To Him I bow my head in total adoration :-)
In winter I love to sit in my sun room and look at the patterns weaved on my persian rug. And i always wonder how many hours and days it took to weave the carpet as it is quite big. I can sit for hours and hours looking at the patterns, colours etc...And I always wonder who the 'artist' is, maybe some old woman? old man? And some days I wish I had that type of creative skill..Some days I wish i could contact the 'artist' of my carpet and tell him how much joy his master piece brought into my life ;-)
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