I cringed as I entered my home, the sickly sweet smell of paint going up my nose. I stared aghast, at my room mate, who had apparently been “inspired” at 8 in the morning, to “create”.
Today seemed to be one of those days.I made my way to the kitchen with the groceries as she merrily yelled that she had found the inspiration for a masterpiece. I shrugged non commitally at that.
She suddenly stopped what she was doing and sat me down. She asked me,rather fiercely, why I didn’t consider painting to be an essential skill. She then told me a philosophy. She told me that painting was life and life was painting. The blank canvas was a new life which was just beginning.
Just like each different colour has its own significant value, each experience in life also has its own significant value. No two strokes are the same, because each is made in a different emotion, by a different hand, for a different cause, just the way each deed we do is meant for a different purpose.
She said the mistakes we make in life, are like the wrong colours, the wrong strokes on a canvas which can spoil a masterpiece. However, if one can rectify the “mistake” by making a new colour or using the stroke for a unique line, then it adds an individualistic tone to the same painting. Similarly, the mistakes we make in life don’t spoil our whole canvas. They simply give it an originality which it would have lacked otherwise.
At the end of the tether, when we look back, we can see our own canvas of life and we can see the masterpiece we have painted. The important thing is to WAIT for that masterpiece. Everything happens for a reason. Each stroke, each colour, each design, each mistake- they all have their own significance which unfurls only with time.
The day they fall into place is the day we look back at our lives with an unbiased eye. That’s the day we see the masterpiece of our life which we have created.
The first thing I decided when she had finished that rant? I needed painting classes. Immediately.