The Painted Mind   Duc du Clos

I remember the morning I took away the virginity  of the pure white, rigid, and silent canvas Still vivid in my mind, I recall… My non-challant imagination talks its victim into picture perfect stillness

 

My brave, yet reckless fingers guide the brush to a fragile line engraving a mark of emotion Gradually, the repetition of strokes renders frailness to my last brush All the while, as the colors begin to blend a tumultuous volcanic eruption occurs on the pallet…

 

Anxiously, I once again gaze at my muse I watch helplessly with pain, as the figure begins to fritter away   My favorite colors are now the destruction of my inspiration  I start to tremble… and hesitation cripples my shaking hand In distress, I close my eyes to renew my reverie

 

Suddenly, it comes upon me…  as I regain inspiration of the lost moment my fingers, once more, with a soft and gentle grip hold the brush as it begins to caress the canvas And surprisingly, again comes the revelation

 

My fingers passionately succumb to their indulgence  Amazingly, they are wandering from the palette to the rigid canvas I stare at them, romancing the image so intensely that I am lost  unaware that my feet have become covered in the sand on the shore as if the existence of the ocean is second to my illusion

 

All I can feel is the sensation of the brush massaging the canvas as if it is the stroke of my bare hand on soft and tender skin Imprisoned, my imagination is at the mercy of this gentle touch  I then gladly embrace the confinement that holds my imagination

 

The canvas… by losing its pale shade of white  is attaining an indescribable image of beauty  This intricate fantasy gives birth to a painting of pure success I feel the elation of creating “La Piece de Resistance”

 

In the end, it became clear it was all a dream… sadly, an illusion of my zealous vision As I stood before my easel in tormented agony  I realized in deep sorrow, I had yet to touch the virgin canvas for I had simply painted in my mind So… I framed the palette

 

An artist never dies as long as his inspiration lives