Studio Dialogue III

“This room is kinda chilly, Master, and I don’t really recognize any of the other paintings hanging in here.” The little painting didn’t often hesitate to speak her thoughts, and this time was no exception.

“Well, naturally you don’t recognize or even understand many of these paintings around you, because I just moved you to this room. But you’re beginning to get to know them, aren’t you? You’ll understand them better in time as they will understand you, but don’t forget that part of the reason I put you in this very room is for precisely such a thing. I’ve told you before that there are always so many more facets to what I’m doing than you could ever grasp, but I will tell you that part of things for the moment.” The Master Painter patiently blinked, working away and softly breathing through a nearly imperceptible smile.

“So, do you think You could also tell me why You moved me to this room? I mean, I knew I was supposed to change Gallery chambers at some point, but I thought that I was going to that other room and then I ended up here...And I’m not saying that I’m not happy where I am, because I really am--but I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense to me. I really haven’t figured this all out yet. And this climate does something strange to my colors too, Master.” Surprisingly, she uttered all of this with a mystified but contented demeanor. Honestly she felt more bewildered with many of her circumstances than she did displeased.

“Well, one small part of the color thing you mention also has to do with the temperature of the room that you mentioned. The cooler temperature helps preserve: it’s good for you. You’ll acclimate--don’t let it bother you. As for this alteration of chambers, this is one of those things that You won’t understand until later. Plainly put, honey, it’s not for you to know. Yet. There will come a day when you’ll understand better.”

“Okay, Master. If there’s one thing I’ve been learning it’s that it’s one thing to ‘know’ that You know Best--like we talked about before--but it’s another thing for me just wait and ‘let’ you work out all of these things into this picture you’re making of me. I can’t see it the way You do, but sometimes, Master, I feel like it would be easier on both of us if I could!”

The Painter nodded in acknowledgement as He listened to her heartfelt burst of emotion. She often regretted articulating herself immediately after doing so, but when she was communicating with the Painter she took more and more refuge in the fact that he never discouraged her bluntness. She knew that her honesty gave a certain quality to the colors that He gave her, because He was good enough to remind her so. But she was frustrated with how these said colors were “changing” at the moment.

“And Master, what’s going on with my colors right now?! I’ve never experienced these techniques and I’m so not used to it that it doesn’t even feel like painting. It’s been a while since I’ve even seen a familiar brush, but I still see you working away so diligently.”

“Do you remember how I told you about layering and the like?”

“Yes...”

“Well, there is some of that going on, and you’re quick to perceive new techniques and changes in your colors. Once again, there’s more to it than any sole dimension, but I don’t think you ever fully perceived how the colors in and of the paintings in your previous room reflected off and changed your own to varying degrees. And you did the same for them. This was certainly no negative thing in most ways. However, it came to the point that I had prepared for you. You were ready to leave.”

He paused, knowing she would need a moment to adequately process His words, then resumed,

“As you grow into the room you’re now in, the colors and images around you will grow into your picture and you will change. Can I just say that as Master Painter, being the Artist of all of this said process is one of my favorite things about what I do?”

He smiled faintly, closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a deep contented breath. Opening them, He began to exude a happy glow and she saw for a fleeting instant a brief flicker of an extraordinary color spectrum dance quickly across his visage. Simultaneously in awe and overwhelmed, she wondered at it but didn’t ask.

“I know you’re at once enamored and frustrated with all of these colors I choose for you, my love. But lest you forget how precious they are, let me remind you of the uniqueness every hue you possess. You have strokes and hints of colors becoming images which are becoming the larger picture of you designed to fit into not only the immediate environment around You but ultimately my entire Collection. And these tones that you have are perfectly exclusive to you, just as the telling and becoming of your Canvas.”

“I always need to be reminded of everything,” she murmured. “It seems like as soon as You get done telling me something I’ve already forgotten the first sentence....”

The Master Painter chuckled and shook his head as she trailed off.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I’m here for. And also, I wanted to tell you that one thing I’m working into your Canvas right now is that I’m maturing some of these unique hues and tones I was talking about. There will come a point in your process where you will better understand how the pigments I’ve chosen for you can be used unto their full potential. I’m beginning that journey in you right now. This is part of why the techniques you’re experiencing right now feel like such new territory. You’re ready for it, and I’m so proud of you for that. There’s so much about you that is still so raw and emergent. This in itself is beautiful in its transient nature. However, the moment your impatience impedes my ability to mature and grow the Art of your Canvas, you cease to let Me be the one to paint you and you let other processes in your story.”

“Never do I want that!” She virtually shouted. “I mean, we’ve talked about this before and I will hang on for Best, Master. I know it will be worth it. I know. I guess it’s just another one of those things that’s easier to ‘know’ than to ‘let’.”

“The more difficult something is for you to ‘let’, my dear--and not just ‘know’--the more beautiful it looks on your Canvas when followed through unto completion. And the more honored am I in being Your Artist.”

“Wow. Another one of those things I forget.”

She was reeling with all of the information and reminders packed into the much needed conversation, but still had one thing left on her mind.

“Master, am I going to stay in this room for a while?”

The Painter did not immediately verbally respond. However when He did, He had become as equally reproachful as forbearant.

“My dear Canvas--for that is what you are, please listen to these words of mine. One of the most incalculably strategic and thematic elements in all of the Art of my entire Collection is a sense of timing. As the Canvas that you are you will never fully fathom my ways, but you must always hold that I have no plans but to prosper you. This, my love, is not the time for you to know this thing you ask me. I will unveil to you such a thing, when it is time. Understood, my dear?”

“Yes, Painter. Yes.”

She watched Him vigorously mix some dyes and pigments on His palette while it took her a moment to muster the courage to supplicate conclusively:

“But Master, please...please help me let this one happen in every way and not just know it! Please, please help.”

“I promise you that, child. I promise.”