Paintings and Idols

I used to watch this show on PBS. A painter used to draw paintings and teach his art on canvass. I once saw his program from beginning till end. He started with a layer of color in the background. He took his brush and painted half the canvass blue. At first I thought he ruined the painting because there was no space left to draw anything else. But he knew what he was doing. He later mixed other colors on top of the background layer and from that he drew mountains, trees, houses, birds, bushes and what not. The mixing of colors gave his painting a depth that I could never achieve in my 5th grade drawings. He was a master of his art, of course.

When hindus need to remember their god, they take a piece of stone and sculpt an idol. They hit that stone with hammers and whittle its details out. With every hard hit on the stone, it takes its shape. If the stone were to complain on the blows, it would never undergo that change. Once its features are carved out, the idol is then washed in milk and is worshipped as a god for the rest of the time.

Our experiences shape our character in that way too. When they happen to us the first time, we seldom understand. But one after another, they start taking shape. From those haphazard layers of colors arise shapes. From those hard blows arise features. From those unanswered questions arises a clear picture.

Time is an artist, and we are its art.