Yesterday while I was studying my wife brought
me a beautiful pink rose from our garden.
She had placed it in a simple hand made clay cup that had been wood
fired. This morning while studying
I happened to glance at the rose and its beauty captivated me completely and I at
once examined it as a young lover would examine the body of his beloved. It was at that moment that a tinge of despair
blew gently against my heart and I knew with full reality that neither I nor
any human could ever truly create a work of art. In a small rose bud is the declaration of the cosmos that
real art is the realm of the Devine and God will allow no man to venture there.
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