A Work of Art

We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.
W. Somerset Maugham

Stress paints an ugly picture. So does conflict and anxiety. Recently, the canvas of our life has been stained with the somber hues of unemployment, family upheaval, financial woes, and just strife in general. It has been applied with big, angry brush strokes and anxious, aggravated blobs of pigment. The layers are thick and heavy. Not a pretty sight at all.

On Wednesday, PC and I went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston for a much needed escape. The general admission exhibits are free on certain evenings, so all it cost was the ride in on the T. We spent four hours strolling down the halls surrounded by amazing works of art. The atmosphere is one of awe, but it is also soothing and relaxing. As we admired each piece, little by little the dark tones left by all of our stresses seemed to brighten. For a few hours, we were able to scrape away the gloom that has obscured our relationship for some time. I was able to see the person that I really love... the smart, kind, funny, patient, endearing man that I was initially attracted to...and to understand why I am still willing to persevere.

Most artists know that it takes time and patience to create a piece of art. The paint doesn't just magically apply itself to the canvas. You have to daub it and brush it on carefully. And if it doesn't look right, you scrape off the paint, and try again. I don't know what kind of picture will result from our life, but I am willing to keep daubing and brushing and scraping until I have created a masterpiece. A masterpiece that will always be an unfinished work of art.