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She posed for the artist to paint her
She sat so perfectly still
A tremble came across her body
That was way beyond her will

"For that, my dear" said the artist
"I'll paint your blue eyes shut
Forever you'll be cast into darkness
Before you return to dust"

The subject, the model, the lady
Laughed and was not so fussed
"You think you have such power, my dear
In the stroke of your brush?

Don't forget it is I, your subject
That brings beauty to your piece
Without me you would be nothing;
A lush drunk on self belief"

With that the artist grabbed his palette
Ferociously began to paint
Till fatigue encapsulated his bones
And he began to feel faint

"How dare you bring into question
This masterpiece, my life's work
From my hand to brush to canvas
My unique view of this world"

"Artist you are not so special
With strokes many could make
Where as my beauty is as unique
As a falling snowflake

And it is I that fell from Heaven
Onto the blank canvas Earth
As potent as God's silence
And as beautiful as God's words"

But your beauty will fade my dear
Where as my art shall last
It will indeed live on forever
Long after we have passed

And what is beauty without someone
To witness and to observe
And re-create that beautiful vision
Of God's elegant, wonderous work
Just was thinking about whether an artist is only as good as the beautiful things that inspire him/her.
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Submitted on
May 16, 2012
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