As Seen in Real Life

The waves crashed gently on the shore, curling over each other in breathtaking translucent blues and whites. Reflected by the mineral rich water, the sun blazed down through the hot dry atmosphere, causing the distinct feeling to the most sane-feeling person that the very air sparkled with life and light.

The sky was crystal clear and blue for miles. Stretching like a canopy over the earth, it wrapped downward and disappeared at the end of the ocean.

Woods, just in from the shore, too, gave the impression of extra life from within them. Several thousand shades of green, white, red and brown shone from the midst of the trees as rays of the same sunlight flowed down and filtered onto the forest floor. Aside from the gentle lapping of the waves, the sway of the trees and the quiet breeze through the sand there was a peaceful silence.

A lone leaf, vibrant with color, large with sweeping lobes and sharply defined veins floated down through the light and onto the ground. It had no mind, and did as it was designed to do — fall was in the air.

* * *

Stunned by the beauty, he stepped back to admire it - wondering how it had all flowed out of his imagination. But it was missing a piece - the final touch - and this would be the most difficult. It would need a separate style - one that would define independence from nature's strict laws of instinct and uniformity; the flagship design.

Therefore the beach was given to stand on it a man. It was a marvelous sight and rendered with such thick detail that it blurred all else in comparison. For as the ocean exhibited a strange reality of combinations of beauty and uniformity, and as the light seemed to live briefly in the air, and the trees seemed so quietly alive, so also the man exuded a sense of life. But it was more than this, for the man was given a unique power: the power of choice.

But the man refused to choose. He could see that all around him was magnificent, but felt only the way he imagined the tree should feel, and felt compelled to execute the instinct of the environment about him. Following to be sure all was well, everything tended, and nothing out of line, the man began a life to show his adherence to nature and her laws.

The painter now wondered when the man would realize he could communicate with his designer - directly. But the man did not understand. So the painter called out to the man, his painting, and said, "Man! Doest thou not wish to speak with thy designer? Is there but little in you to make you wonder of your own existence and drive your curiosity to consider what differences you are to enjoy from the rest of the painting?" And the man was scared and did not respond, but instead sought hiding in the woods, hoping the painter would cease to speak. For whoever heard of one design of this painting being given such ideas as curiosity and contemplation? Was he not also like the tree and intended only to perform a role in the painting? Should he not simply fulfill his duty and continue as it had been?

But the painter did not give up - there was much the man needed to know; there was so much on which the man would miss out if he did not choose to see all that had been prepared for him. But the man continued to live his role-based life. He did find many times that it was difficult to complete his role, and often he did not have the understanding he needed to complete a particular task; in this he failed and it hurt him a great deal. But still he continued on, never understanding that the answers to all of his yearnings, questions and shortcomings were but a glance away. And still the painter called and desired for the man to answer him - to take hold of what he had to offer from his own understanding. Many years he waited, but to no avail.

Years later found the painter looking into his painting to watch the man as he entered his late years, still yearning to share with the man his life and the intention of the man's design, but through his dying day, the man refused to believe there was more to life than instinct and instruction; he died in ignorance of his own true purpose, and never experienced personal fulfillment through conversation with and understanding of the one who painted him into existance. The painter was grieved, and left the painting to be shown in prominence in his house, for it was his greatest achievement; though the subject and sole purpose of the painting, which was the man, had disappeared into dust and could not be seen any longer.