The swirling colors meld jointly to form an unseen picture. The oranges and pinks brushed simultaneously make a seamless sunset. And yet there is something underneath the paint that wrestles and groans, gnawing away at the canvas. The prettiest colors can cover this damaged hide, but alas, the creases will find a way to breakthrough. The paint can only hide so much. Some may dedicate their entire lives to hiding those defects.
I stare at my reflection in the soft, painted canvas. The reflection that was once hideous with all its imperfections. A reflection stood still in quicksand, now something utterly different. Because those once imperfections, those cracks, and cuts, now make the painting more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Imperfections are what make our paintings unique. Without them, all paintings would be the same with their perfect color choices and expert strokes. And who would ever want a thing such as that?
Sarah's Blog 