I used to paint. Then I noticed what was going on around me. No matter what I tried to create from puddles of paint and a brush could never be as beautiful as the wood and hairs used to create the brush nor the crushed up berries for the colors. The time and procedures that went into what already is will always be far more beautiful than any conscious mind can recreate. The painstaking hours that I would put in to mimic what has already been would only be an underachievement. To think that a sun's rays bounces off of every little particle in the atmosphere before it gets to me is far more of any art form than I could ever wish to learn.
