The Artist


There is a story about a certain man who considered himself fairly level headed.  He was practical, analytical, reasonable and religious; as if all of these characteristics could go together.  Anyway, he was wandering along the edge of the wilderness and noticed an artist painting a picture of the landscape.  As she painted, he noticed the care she took with each stroke of her brush.  It looked as if every stroke she loving applied was filled with light as it glistened on the canvas.  He watched in awe as she created the earth, grass, flowers, trees, birds, animals and even the wind.  Everything seemed to come to life from the tip of her brush as she joyfully applied to her board.  He was delighted to watch her produce this masterpiece right before his eyes.  As the day started to fade to evening he asked her if she was going to return the next day to finish her work of art.  She simply replied, “I AM the Creator.”

That night his heart was full as he dreamed of love, joy, peace and tranquility.  He awoke early with a deep desire to go out and watch this wonderful woman finish her immaculate creation.  He arrived with the sun and discovered her painting upon the easel in its completeness.  It was beyond what he had imagined could be possible, it seemed to be alive, breathing, and teeming with life.  As he gazed upon this miraculous creation he was interrupted by her arrival.  The artist was unassuming woman with a simple beauty and a bluish aura that seemed to surround her like the morning mist on the water.  Without a word she sat down at the easel and began to create again.  This time was different.  Her steadfast love and care were the same, but her brushes were changing the amazing masterpiece into a writhing, tortuous form of death and decay.  It was so real he could smell the rotting flesh.  The foul stench made him fall to his knees and vomit profusely.  Once he gained his composure he reached up to stop the artist from continuing with her creation.  He threw her brush on the ground and said,” How can you create such evil?  You had created a beautiful landscape and now you have destroyed that masterpiece that was miraculously living.  Why would you do that?  Why would you do something so terrible?” She simply replied, “I AM the Creator.”

Not being able to look at the terrible creation this wretched woman had created, he returned home with the smell of death on his clothes and the taste puke in his mouth.  That night his heart was empty.  His mind was tormented with nightmares.  He was touched by fear, filled with anger and hatred toward this woman.   He awoke wishing he had never ventured into the wilderness.  Anger still filled his veins feeding his heart with vengeance for what she had done.  So he started back to the wilderness.  He could see her from a distance in the midst of the wilderness with her brush in her hand.  When he arrived she spoke first.  Her words sounded like water upon the rocks, her face was glowing crimson like the sun.  She said, ” I AM the Creator and when you hate my creations, you hate me.  When you call my good creations evil you misunderstand to whom they belong.  I AM the Creator.  I put my heart and soul into all I create.  My image is in everyone of my creations.  For me they are all good even though you may not think so.   I AM the artist!

Upon hearing this the man who had been practical, analytical, reasonable and religious was now in a real wilderness knowing she somehow spoke the truth he faded away as the artist covered the canvas with a glorious white light removing everything except her steadfast love of creations from the heart of the artist.

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