A Handful Of Sand

I guess anything is possible in this world.  After all, we watch "Reality TV".  (So, Survivor is really a documentary?)  We worship self-esteem more than money.  Heck, the kids in Little League aren't even given the scores of games, lest some poor little tyke thinks he may be a loser.  Art students are taught that Picasso is a God while Parrish is a fraud, instead of vice-versa.  So, I'm sure there is an artist out there who is entirely satisfied with the outcome of every one of his paintings.  He can perfectly realize in paint any vision his mind can conjure.  To him, his works of creation are so perfect, even God is jealous!  (No doubt, this artist would love to bottle his flatulence and sell it as a perfume).  In case you're curious, no, that would not be me.  Actually, I think I am with the vast majority of artists who are always left a little disappointed with the results of their paintings. 

You see, as I mentioned in this blog, inspiration is a powerful drug.  It makes you hallucinate.  When I am inspired by an idea for a painting I see it in all it's glorious perfection.  In my minds eye I marvel at the beautiful colors, the bravura brushwork, the perfect design and composition.  I am overwhelmed with the prospect of making something so awesome!  But then something happens.  I start to work on it with whatever ability I may possess.  And then somehow, my colors don't seem to glow like the colors I saw in my vision.  The bravura brushwork I saw are now frozen and tight little dabs of paint.  My design is skewed, and the composition I thought was so dynamic is really a Rosburg.  And there I am, faced with just another painting.  Others may like it and think it's well done, but they didn't see the vision I saw.

Someone once asked that over-hyped talent-less dreck Picasso which one of his paintings was his favorite.  "The next one," he said.  Possibly because he couldn't actually think of a good one.  But, I digress...  But that's the reason we paint.  We keep thinking that we will capture that dream in the next painting!  The next painting will show those beautiful colors and sparkling brush-work! 

You know what paintings really are?  They are souvenirs.  The remembrances of what the artist once saw.  But instead of a beautiful sunny beach in the tropics, with the turquoise-blue water gently caressing the pure white sand as golden clouds glide majestically across an endless blue sky being pushed by the warm whisper of a breeze that lightly nudges the palm trees, all we have left to remind us of all that splendor is a handful of sand.