Once upon a time there was a painter. He had first decided to become a painter at the age of 4, after seeing a real oil painting up close for the first time. As he grew up he pursued other interests and hobbies, but he never forgot his first love, painting. When he was 11, he started down the path that would lead him to being a painter. It was a hard, slow process. Paints are messy and you have to handle them just right. After about 4 years, though, he was capable enough with his painting to start getting steady work, painting for his church. It was a very
good training ground for honing his skills, and he continued
to grow as a painter and as an artist. He felt very fortunate that his church allowed him to paint for them. The problem with painting for the church, however, involved painting just what the church wanted him to paint, no more, no less. He longed for a day when he could paint his own subjects, but subjects are hard to come by. He did, though, find a subject when he was about 17, and it was thrilling and invigorating. He loved the freedom painting his own subject allowed. He could paint just what he wanted, and no one could tell him it was wrong or that the colors were too bright (a common complaint with oil paints (Editors note:
lobiwan doesn't really know anything about paints or painting, just roll with it). The colors being too bright was especially a complaint at the church, where they weren't used to such bright colors. From time to time there was idle talk of switching to
acrylic paints, whose colors were more subdued and much, much easier to blend. The Painter would always voice his objections, though, and they never made the switch. You see, the painter hated acrylic paints. He found them to be lifeless and dull. The idea that he would need to be forced to use them was something he just could not stand.
Eventually the painter went off to college, where he decided to minor in painting, since he loved it so much. He didn't major in painting because he was needed at the family business back home. He brought his subject with him to college though, and continued to work with with it, though not as much as he should have. At college he found a wonderful world full of painters. At college no one ever even mentioned Acrylic paints even in passing, as they were so foreign and unacceptable. No one he met there (they were all painting majors, of course) would ever resort to using acrylic paints.
He also decided to try to get some paintings displayed in a museum. This was a very complicated process, not the least of which was getting his paintings framed. He proceeded with the plan and finally got 4 paintings together which he thought were worthy of display. He knew a framer who could have made the frames, but who was a bit to modest about his own framing ability. "You really need to have Ted frame your pictures," his friend told him, "he is the best." The painter had never met Ted, but heard many good things about him. Ted agreed to do the framing, and the painter waited anxiously for the finished product. And he waited. And waited. And waited. Ted was always just swamped, and would get to his paintings just as soon as he could. 6 months went by before the painter finally got his paintings back. He was
devastated. The frames were obviously put together very quickly and with little regard to the paintings themselves. The temporary frames his friend had made the night he finished the painting looked better than those! The stress proved to be to much for the painter and his subject and they gradually drifted apart.
When he came home for the summer he found that his church had switched to acrylic paints in his absence. He continued to paint for them, since they had been so kind in giving his first real steady work, but it just wasn't the same. The painter felt betrayed and unwanted, and those feelings would eventually lead him to leave the church (along with other reasons, of course) shortly after he returned home from college for good.
Fast forward 9 years. The painter has been busy. He has been at home running the family business for many years. He has a nice home that he shares with his beautiful wife and daughter. He has found a new church which allows him to paint with Oils, despite the bright colors. He feels very blessed. Out of nowhere, a subject calls him and asks if he could possibly paint it. He agrees to give it a shot, and after about five months, begins to feel rather comfortable with the new subject. The subject then decides that it wants to be displayed in a museum. The painter works hard to paint flattering portraits that will be suitable for framing. The subject even has a friend who is a professional framer, so the painter feels pretty good about getting the paintings displayed. This time the framer works very quickly, and in no time at all has produced 5 very flattering frames. The painter is rather pleased with the frames, they are stylish and very professional. As he is looking at the pictures he notices something odd. On one of the portraits, his favorite one, no less, the framer has made a small change. Where the painter had painted the subject with green eyes, the framer has gone in and changed the eye color to blue! Not only has he changed the eye color to blue, he has done so with Acrylic paint! The painter is astonished. He tries to say something, but it is too late! The museum opens
tomorrow with his display! There is no time!
So let me ask you, how does the painter feel? How should the painter feel? He has 5 very nice pictures on display, which are framed quite suitably. No one will ever notice the blue eyes unless he points it out. The subject doesn't even notice the blue eyes, and insists that it is not that big of a deal. He is grateful to both the subject and the framer for giving him this chance, and he is sure that everyone will like the pictures and never even notice the small, acrylic blue eyes. He knows that neither the subject or the framer understands his hatred for Acrylic paints.
But he knows that he will never be able to look at the pictures without those acrylic blue eyes staring at him, burning his eyes with their non-brilliance.
In other news
RPM's new CD is ready. Let me know if you want one.
Labels: Esotericism, music, Rock n' Roll, RPM, superstardom