The Danger of Perfection

The creator stepped back from the painting realizing that he had shaped something outrageously perfect. Slowly he understood that all else now would be just a prelude or a footnote to this. There would be no sequel. His elation soon led to gloom. What was he thinking, drinking, or smoking, when perfection bloomed under his fingers? He tried to replicate that magic moment, but that inspired instant always alluded his grasp. In the end, he let the canvas and the light take the credit, he was merely the hand that held the paintbrush, but what held his hand? After much meditation he dropped the brush.