Reality Is Not The Same

‘What green they possess. The trees.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Do you not see the intricacies?’
‘I do, but to dwell on them would focus what attention I have on the minuscule.’
‘Surely to attend to the minuscule is to attend to the foundations.’
‘The foundations are but a building block to the holistic beauty of what is produced.’
They pondered, studying the sway of the leaves against the breeze. They both stroked against each of their canvases, recreating what they saw. The first man would administer a detailed piece describing the very creation of what he saw. From bottom to top each stroke determined the other – a process inevitably leading to a finish. The second chose to swiftly castrate the detail and was determined to paint the feeling. Vivid strokes. An indeterminable structure of light and colour. Having both finished they peered at each others work and understood that each work possessed an appreciation of what they observed.
But it was an unachievable beauty that could never be mimicked on canvas.

View this story's 4 comments.