© November 18, 2009
modified November 24, 2009
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When I paint
People see it as my gift
When it is God gifting me
With His presence
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He holds my hand and uses me as His paintbrush
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Because they cannot see further than me
To the real painter beyond the canvas
Their appreciation is fleeting
based on colors and composition and brushstrokes
They don’t see that it is all God’s palette
And whatever color
Whatever arrangement
However heavy or light my caress
It is His Creation
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And it is perfection
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I am tired of sharing God
To the critics and colorblind
I consider capping my paints
Leaving my canvas empty
Or blocking God out
Painting with my own hand
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While the canvas will lack the touch of Grace
At least I could accept the insults as my own
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But I like to paint
And when I do
God is always present
Working through me
Coloring my canvas
With His touch
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I wish they would learn
To open to God
To be painters
Instead of commentators
To appreciate God in His presence
No matter what color He chooses to paint
I like this poem. It reminds me of something I read in The book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura.
In the chapter Art Appreciation, he wrote “In order to understand a masterpiece, you must lay yourself low before it and await with bated breath its least utterance”
This here is the part that rings true to your poem……”It is much to be regretted that so much of the apparent enthusiasm for art at the present day has no foundation in real feeling. In this democratic age of ours men clamor for what is popularly considered the best, regardless of their feelings. They want the costly, not the refined; the fashionable, not the beautiful. To the masses, contemplation of illustrated periodicals, the worthy product of their own industrialism, would give more digestible food for artistic enjoyment than the early Italians or the Ashikaga masters, whom they pretend to admire. The name of the artist is more important to them than the quality of the work. As a Chinese critic complained many centuries ago, “People criticize a picture by their ear.” It is this lack of genuine appreciation that is responsible for the pseudo-classic horrors that to-day greet us wherever we turn.”
Wow…
Did you paint this??? it is really beautiful.
Right now I am just painting with words
Really beautiful!!!!!