on a rainy weekend afternoon, i was sittin by this coffee shop by the road, with a lazed thoughtless mind.. and i noticed a beggar havin his cuppa on the pavement.. and an artist havin his.. on the table next to me. n i wondered what their lives must be like.
a beggar, emotionlessly, egolessly pickin up everythin that comes his way.. crushed under the wheels of the commerce of this world.. makin ends meet bit by bit.. penny by penny.
an artist, driven only by passion of beauty, emotions, colors and expression, almost beyond the realm of give and take, beyond the shackles of commerce.
or so it seems.
to perceive and paint the beauty of, for instance, that unique sunset,
the candid play of vibrant colors in the sky,the unusual shapes of the clouds, the flurry of colorful birds returning to their nests, the play of light on mountains and tree tops, the silhouttes of his lovers hand entwined in his.. with wind blowin through their hair..experiencing the ecstacy of that 'perfect sunset'.
strong emotions, romantic memmories, observations, conviction, imagination, tedious labour and talent go into the making of that one single painting, scuplture or a work of art.
and then its time to sell it...the artist explaining to his buyer at what he saw, how he felt while he painted it; trying in vain to make the buyer see what he sees in the painting.
after a great deal of difficult conversation, haggling and bargaining, this painting is 'SOLD' and then
proudly adorns the living room of the prosperous industrailist.
it proves his ability to spend, and of knowing 'a wise investment' when he sees one.
and then suddenly, even the life of the beggar seems tolerable.