Just had a great chat with a friend. He showed me a piece of artwork he was working on. Always in progress. I love the way he looks at it. He never sees the piece in his mind until something happens inside him and he begins. Even then, it doesn’t always fully develop. He could think he was finished with a piece and then turn it upside down, rotate it slightly and see something entirely different. Recreating as it unfolds before him.
I like that. Because if we were to look at people like he looks at his art, this world would be a different place. If we looked at ourselves like that, this world would be a different place.
Until then, we are simply someone else’s masterpiece hanging in a gold frame … on a wall … in some stuffy museum filled with countless others … just like us.