I am an artist inspired by the greatest artist, my work is art, painted art.
I paint pictures with words.
Where my work is done?
My work is performed on a canvas, and the canvas is where inspiration becomes creation, and creation begins.
But as I said, I am an artist, I am not a great artist, but I know the great one, he is my teacher.
He tells me greatness is in me, but when he says it to me, it humbles me.
Today he has given me inspiration, along with inspiration, there is revelation, and with revelation, there is insight, “sight”.
So he asks me, “What do you see?”
When I saw it, I considered it well, but when I looked on it, then I received instruction.
I said, what I see is beautiful, and I begin to paint with words that which was beautiful, what I saw.
I see an old worn down tattered apartment complex, it’s the place where I lay my head for now, but it’s not that which is beautiful.
But what is beautiful, is what lies beside this old worn down tattered apartment building.
Beside this worn down apartment complex, there is a side walk, so I began to paint.
As I paint looking on this worn down sidewalk, there is cracks everywhere, and it is in great need of repair.
But as I look on these things, I notice that which is beautiful.
It is in the concrete where the cracks meet, in this broken concrete where the cracks meet
there lies that which is beautiful, a rose, a rose in the midst of this cracked broken concrete, where the cracks meet, a rose speaks.
This rose speaks to me, and it says, look at me, I am scared, I am not perfect, I am not beautiful.
But it is perfect, it’s just to humble to know its own beauty.
The artist, the great artist who is my teacher, he says to me, this is a masterpiece, what will you call it?
I said, I will call it pain, but he said no.
So I thought, and I said, I will call it hope, and again he said no.
So I continued to think on it, and I said, I will call it that which is beautiful, again he said no.
So I thought, as I meditated, and I looked hard at the painting as tears formed in my eyes, and I said, it is me.
The teacher said, now you see that which is beautiful in my sight.
See, it is me, it is me in the midst of this cracked broken concrete where the cracks meet.
It is me, the rose of Sharon, in the midst of this cracked broken concrete where the cracks meet.
It is me.
The Artist, by Reese Kemp