Are we a painter’s canvas? Lives sketched in lines and shapes adding colors and textures along the way. Errors camouflaged with more and more paint, covering over mistakes. Wiping each blunder clean with mineral oil hiding there existence. Still, the stain, even though faint, remains. Even if others cannot see it, it is there.
Are we a marble block? Chipping away the rough edges creating smooth surfaces to please those that would look upon it and feel the presence. Ever becoming smaller as continual shapes are carved into appealing forms until only a chip remains. Just left with the memory of the possibilities of what could have been with a better chisel or hammer.
Are we molder’s clay? Bending and shaping to fit neatly into acceptable forms. Flexible in life’s axioms never to stand firm on principle. Continually contorted into agreeable outer appearances recognizing individuality less and less. With the over kneading, the spirit gets lost in structure until brittle and worn.
None of the above
We are the artists, working with many mediums to see what works best. We paint our canvas reveling in both our spectacular strokes and seeing the beauty in the imperfections. As sculptors, we shape our lives the way we see fit. Creating for the pleasure and care of others, and the enjoyment for ourselves. We also are flexible like clay. Bending and flexing with the willingness to fit in as well as stand out. Never judging other shapes and forms while seeing the beauty in all life. Our life is our masterpiece, never complete until our last moment. Enjoying each creation, we marvel at the endless possibilities in life.
If life is a canvas, we are the artists, If life is a song we choreograph the dance, If life is a skyscraper we are the architects.