Painter's Dilemma

The paintbrush spreads the color of the sky in the shape of shimmering ripples. The added layer of white makes the ripples freeze in motion. The edges of the water are framed with the contrast of stilled snow. The trees blend into the snowy drifts as their true colors are hidden by each flake. The view above gives life to the mirror of watery images. The brush pauses as the artist allows the snow and ice to dry on the frozen scene. There is stillness and movement caught with the simple indents of the tool. The reality cannot be captured in perfect essence but a new picture is created from the eye of the painter. She adds each color and movement to make something so unique it’s never been seen before. This is the task of the artist. Each failure reminds us of how similar humans think to each other. Each success brings a greater struggle to create in the future. While there is no end to ideas, the innate desire to create grows dim in many hearts. The struggle is life changing but frightening, rewarding but time consuming. How easy to follow the acts of the past and place responsibility on another. The courage needed is strong enough to forge trails and break guidelines. Classes cannot provide such courage nor talent to make a creation worth the public eye. Tutors are not able to will the transfer of dedication and enlightenment. Desire is not enough to make an artist of an observer. One must trust, one must act, one must practice.

“That’s deep” came a gruff exclamation from two rows forward. The movement of heads turning completed the breaking of the trance that had enveloped the entire room. The profession’s glare silenced all other outbursts from the disgruntled student. Sandie tried to focus on the continuing slides and calm narrative voice but attention of room had shifted. At the end of the presentation there was already murmurs heard from every corner of the room. The lights turned on but still visible from the projector was the last painting left on the wall. Glancing at her wristwatch Sandie saw the last minute of class was ticking away. All eyes went to the professor who was articulately arranging the papers and books on his desk. He met the oncoming stares with a knowing expression and silence. Seven seconds to the hour he spoke, “10 pages on your opinion of the painter’s dilemma, use references from chapters 16, 19 and 12. Dismissed.” Sandie smiled as she packed away her notebook. Professor Jaydauhn loved chapter 12 of Painters, Poets, and Other Creators from Every Era. Every chance possible to have his class review it he took. There was a rumor he had every word memorized so if you misquoted he would fail you on every paper. Sandie added the homework to her long list of other assignments and she waited for the isle to clear of students similarly pulling out their electronic devices of every shape and color. Amazing how the human race has learned to walk and type at the same time. She smiled and transferred her gaze to the finial picture. Full of a hundred shades of brown and yellow the image of a pear orchard covered the white textured wall. The caption read “Ways to paint a pear tree, has it been down before” by Jonathan Jaydauhn. It took a minute for her realize the name matched the one at the top of her often-read syllabus.

The crowd started moving so Sandie followed the flow before turning into a clear doorway. She pulled her backpack forward and unzipped the large pocket pulling out her copy of Painters, Poets and Other Creators. No author listed on the front but turning open the cover Sandi saw a picture of a familiar face and the inscription J.J. the Professor. She almost laughed out loud, disbelieving her obliviousness for the last 10 weeks. No wonder her professor loved the book so much. “Sadie everything okay?” She jumped at the voice behind her. There stood the discrete author and painter. “Um it’s Sandie and yes everything’s fine” They stared for several awkward moments. Sandie’s bag still open and her book clenched in her hands. She didn’t know how to escape so she said the first thing that came to her mind. “Soooo will you sign my book?” Whatever the professor was expecting that didn’t seem to be on the list. “Sure” he muttered in surprise and pulled out a pen. He practically ripped the book away from her and quickly added an exaggerated signature that took up most of the title page. She heard a “Have a good day Sandie” as he walked away. Sandie looked down at the book he had shoved back in her hands and then back up at her departing profession. “You too” She said several moments after it had become awkward. Class on Monday was going to be interesting.