The Writers, the Painters, and the Maestros

Yesterday was a trying exasperating day for me. At the end, I was taught once again a truth I have had to learn many times, on many days, in many circumstances. What was it? A proverb if you will, I sometimes lose in the composition of expression and life…

Listen thrice. Think twice. Speak once.

In my usual exuberance for the exchange of ideas and feelings, I failed my wise, old and simple proverb. It was not a time to be a Writer. It was not a time to be a Painter, and neither was it time to be a Maestro. While all three of these arts of human expression are in their own right masterpieces awaiting birth and life, I sometimes (often?) forget they have a hidden twin that requires as much respect.

2ears-wilbanksThe Writer needs paper and pen. The Painter needs paint and canvas. The Maestro needs instruments and musicians. Without those tools nothing can be created. Still there is more. To enjoy and pleasure in these performances, there must be an audience. A Silent audience. An audience waiting and willing to be filled, to be changed, to be made more human and alive.

And still, there is more.

How often do these four “artists” come together perfectly for a masterpiece? Why or why not? In these beautiful compositions of human expression, they do not necessarily require me to become an echo, a more lavishing Writer, Painter, or Maestro to drink them, to breathe them, or feel them…despite how hugely tempting the indulgence are for me. I am Bohemian. Moderation is often not our, nor my forte. But she needs her place! She needs her space! I of ALL PEOPLE should know how delicious my deprivation can taste when unsatisfied. It will have its liberation… when the pen and paper, the paint and canvas, the instruments and players, and the quite, motionless audience are just right.

Live Well — Love Much — Learn Always — Listen More Often

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