The blessed moment for an artist is not when he finally catches a lucky break as though a wave suddenly crested beneath him, for such a surging loft ultimately and often quickly expends itself ashore.
Rather it is the journey that has crested on many a hill, till one rise unexpectedly overlooks, not the artist’s good fortune, but his grand inheritance.
The blessing of the artist, whether writer, painter, or musician, comes not as a stumbler finds a pearled oyster or gold nugget in the stream but as a son claiming his birthright. It is the realization that before anything was ever crafted by the artist, a canvas was anointed for the artist, and that the holy ground under the feet of his sudden awareness was deeded to him long ago.
Good GRIEF, this is true. And you masterfully named it. I'm kind of in awe of your grip on words at the moment.
Posted by: KW | May 20, 2009 at 07:45 PM
GOODNESS GRACIOUS. This is so true, some days when I cannot work due to human responsibilities, I feel as if I am cheating the divine . . . that I am committing a sin, deep and gaping.
Thank you for so eloquently defining this divine ordainment of the artists.
Posted by: sher fick | August 21, 2009 at 10:39 AM