The Perfect Painting

The Perfect Painting They said he could not put his heart on canvas, capture time in a timeless moment, allow his passion to explode, and yet contain it in the flicking of a brush. What is it that she sees, and how does she perceive such texture and detail, a tear stained cheek, a wry smile, an eerie shadow. The perfect painting is not a reflection it is an intuition, an invitation to passersby to slow, to look again, to linger. It is that lover’s look - making eye contact – and holding it for an infinite second. It is the touch of a gentle hand distracting us from the urgencies of the moment, allowing us to feel the mist of raging breakers, smell the heat off lilacs bloom, soar in the icy winded canyons. How did he see it, feel it, capture it in wild dashes and blobs of paint, in passionate strokes of fire, burn his image onto the canvas? We stand in awe at the savagery and softness of such beauty, press closer to inspect the clarity of line, the detail of an infants face. Seeking perfection in a painting - perfect - in its imperfection. 5/15/2014 for The Perfect Painting contest