What An Artist Eyes See

I have a small dear child, a waif, as dear as any student I ever had…and as gifted.  I have seen their giftedness, known it was, and moved by it.  Over time they have become wounded.  Self and other inflicted–and their art tells the truth of it; the way only art can, the way only an artist can see; their deep and meaningful well is now being drawn forth in a bucket with a gaping hole.  Thomas Merton would say we are all just animals trying to make sense of the tragicness of life until the day a Savior becomes ours, and makes or remakes us human.  I spent years making work like an animal.  I know that work when my eyes see it.