The room was redolent; with smells of paint, thinner, and turpentine. Sunlight
shone brightly into the bay windows encased on all four sides of the enclosure,
ensuring 'perfect' lighting at all times. This was a wondrous room, befitting an
artist of his renown.
Completed portraits sat as sentinels along the walls and hung on every inch of
space the room afforded. He smiled as he surveyed his completed works. There,
before his eyes, were the miracles of his life's work, his creations, perhaps
not perfect to the eye of other beholders, but to him, sublime. Slowly he walked
around the room, pausing before each checking for flaws or blemishes overlooked.
After circling the perimeter, satisfied with all, he proceeded to the center of
the room. He scrutinized the prepared canvas, searching for anything that might
hinder his creative flow. Then, he moved on to the table that held unopened
tubes of paint, an empty palette, and all the brushes needed for this project.
He picked up the clean and empty palette, then paused. He began speaking, as
though to himself. Yet, he knew he was not alone. It always helped his
creativity by speaking aloud that which he envisioned beforehand. Each word
helped the 'birthing' process along.
Next, he opened his paints. Carefully, he chose his colors: brown, black, white,
blue, green, and yellow, all forming a circle (which to him represented the
circle of life). In the center of the circle, he placed a dab of red - dark,
bright - like blood.
The next step, he referred to as the gestational stage. Using a charcoal pencil,
he sketched in lines, shapes, and forms - shadowy, embryonic illusions - hinting
at what was to come. After completing this step, he once again paused. Tilting
his head first right, then left, he reached out his finger to smudge a few lines
here and there. These smudges would represent the imperfect world into which his
creation would be born.
He finally picked up the paint-laden palette. From here, his masterpiece would
emerge. With black, he filled in the outline; still speaking, to his unseen
audience, the story of his vision for the incomplete portrait he told. He
regaled how the brown represented the dirt from which man stems. Hills and
valleys, the difficulties we all face, he designed in carefully. Against a blue
sky, he added gray clouds for the overcast days ahead. He painted in green grass
and trees to remind others, each spring, a renewal takes place. A sun of vibrant
yellow reflected the glory of each new day.
At first glance, it appeared to be a background he was painting. But upon closer
inspection, the features of a face were taking on a more realistic form. He,
then, blended all the colors together and painted in the more distinguishing
features.
First, he painted in eyes, soulful and wounded, yet able to sparkle with life
and joy. A nose, turned up in disdain or looking down on someone, but also
classic when not affronted. The mouth turned up in a winsome smile, but could
just as easily frown in despair. Cheekbones; high, low or sunken, they changed
mysteriously on their own. A pair of ears that would hear or, perhaps not.
Finally hair, again mysteriously, that changed color, texture, and length with
each new glance.
Now, the painter's palette lay devoid of all color. As he gazed upon his nearly
completed work, he beamed, exuberantly, pleased with his creation.
He put the final touch to the portrait, His palm print that left a bright red
spot representing both His name and the blood He shed in order to purchase the
canvas. In addition, on the back He gave the portrait a name - YOURS - written
in the same red signifying the blood He shed for YOU.
You see, you came forth from "The Painter's Palette" and the artist is none
other than Jesus Christ, Himself. He drew you in His mind and heart long, before
you actually came into existence, and spoke you into being, along with the
Father and Holy Spirit. He considers you a masterpiece. Regardless of past or
present circumstances, you are His creation and, in you, He takes delight. What
you perceive as blemishes, He believes, only enhances your beauty. Since He is
the artist, will you trust and accept yourself as He does? To Him, you are a
perfect portrait.
© 2001 by Kathi Toups KathisPlace2@aol.com
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