Art has always been a part of who I am. But it isn't just a part of who I am. It's a part of who everyone is. Even that right brain boss at your work who can't undo the crease between her brow for fear it will disrupt her flow of analytical thought process.
Yes...even she is an artist. When she cooks a scramble in the morning and garnishes the plate with tomato and parsley. That is art.
Lately everything my hand or brain or heart touches just drips with art. I can't let it escape me, without some trace of beauty or lure on it. I have to redeem it. Beautify it. Embellish it.
I can't help but think that by doing this I am somehow redeeming my self in some small way. When I look at my physical self I see what some may call beauty, but I know my human self to be dark and ugly, and it stares back at me from every shiny surface. So by turning every dark thing into beauty, I have little chances all day to redeem small corners of my world that would otherwise be darkened by my humaness.
Hmmm.
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