Too many self portraits deface a soul
And I’m but a painter with too few to paint
All I see is the same in all of my models
The same variations on different taints
I once was a painter who looked up at great heroes
And secretly hoped that one day I would be
A sculpter of clay such that conquers all battles
And somehow of that clay I could recreate me
But now all I see are the base imperfections
That block out my way to what could never be
I can paint over, but always corrections
Can never be true when truth is just me
Writer In Retrospect 
That’s the beauty of paint. Supposedly, they just painted over and over a spot till they got it right.
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Ah, but when your canvas is flawed, what are you to do?
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Paint thinner?
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Hah! Still just a band-aid though, no?
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Rachel, you describe all too well the challenges one faces when she’s amidst a lifetime of observing. Observing with a particularly sharp eye too.
Question isn’t how you see others, though, but it’s how you classify yourself. Are you a scientist, recording everything in exact detail, flaws and all? Or are you an artist, softening edges and buffing out minor gaps in order in pursuit of an image which inspires both your subject, and others, to strive?
Both are legitimate approaches, and both have attributes and problems. Ultimately, it says much about the direction you want your own life to take.
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I have always wanted to be the artist. But, it doesn’t seem… viable.
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Good for you then, Rachel. Sure, artistry isn’t always a practical option, as you just mentioned, but more important is the fact you have that inclination in the first place.
The way I see it, it’s not a matter of being realistic v. being a dreamer. It’s more a matter of being able to see beyond the present moment. Of understanding it doesn’t matter so much where are now, but in identifying where you want to go from there.
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That’s not a bad way of looking at it. Though I would identify pessimism as a seer trying to be a realist.
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A good point, Rachel.
In recognition of that, allow me to amend the original thoughts. Optimism v. pessimism, or artistry v. realism, comes down to how much the seer believes current reality can change.
Maybe not instantly, though that would be preferable, but eventually.
Speaking personally, that’s where pessimism faltered for me, even during my darkest days – it never seemed to jibe with the dreamer I always have been. Too often, in fact, the dissonance would degrade pessimism to cynicism. And that never was what I wanted to be.
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Huh. That sounds familiar… Though lately, I can’t seem to persuade myself that what I ever wanted to be really matters, or that what I never wanted to be is avoidable.
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Alas, I know what you mean, Rachel. Despite it being in my nature, dreaming requires an effort at times. In fact, it rarely is automatic.
Of course, positive experiences make it easier, but they’re not exactly thick on the ground, are they? That’s where our friends and family come in.
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