The Good Painting

I want to say more with less.

Like a great speaker who speaks slowly, one topic at a time.

The painting has one beautiful moment, a focus that is simple and bold, that looks at first glance like something anybody can do, but one can tell the mark of a master, because everything around it compliments, doesn't compete, doesn't distract. It's like saying the perfect thing at the perfect time, in the perfect way, but that perfect thing is real and flawed, beautifully so. It's a single sentence by a small voice in the perfect acoustics of a vast, empty auditorium: a triviality, an indulgence, and maybe even futile. But somehow that moment is captivating. Captivating and valuable, like the kind of thing they make documentaries about. That humanism is an affirmation of being alive and experienced, of being human.

There is a blank canvas that will one day be that good painting.