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Topic: Drip (04/25/13)
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TITLE: Priceless | Previous Challenge Entry
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04/29/13 -
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“Remarkable, isn’t it?” The low voice resonated from a tall man that had glided up to her from nowhere.
“Remarkable? I don’t know if I’d call it remarkable. It’s interesting and a little over rated if you ask me.” She didn’t want this stranger to see her so drawn into it. She really thought it was remarkable.
“How do you know what type of remarkable I was referring to?” His voice was directly in her right ear. She could feel his arm brushing hers in such close proximity.
She pondered this for a minute. “Well, I assumed that you thought it was pretty amazing.”
“Amazing? Sure, I guess. It is valued at $112 million.” His tone was now sarcastic and dry.
He continued, “It is a painting composed of drips and splatters. It is dark and depressing. Jackson Pollock basically slung some paint on a piece of fiberboard and called it ‘art’. To me, that is not art.”
Tabatha was a little more than astounded to hear someone say such a thing. Her study of art was in-depth. Her love for it coursed through her veins and made her heart beat fast. She couldn’t imagine someone looking at Pollock’s “Cathedral” and not feeling the same way.
The stranger looked at her and smiled. “You know, if you want to see a real work of art, I could show it to you. There is nothing else like it and no one else can reproduce something as beautiful as what has been created. Everything else is a cheap imitation.”
Her mind raced through all the great artists she had studied and as she drew upon name after name, she couldn’t imagine any of them as being as magnificent as what he was describing.
She smiled back at him and followed him down the long hallway that led out of the gallery. They were standing outside on the sidewalk when he told her to look up. She peered upwards towards the building directly across the street. She didn’t see anything particular. He elbowed her to look up higher.
The sky was a luminous blue. Marbled through it were the jewel tones of purple and magenta. A glint of yellow and orange peeked through the clouds and around the shimmering setting sun. It was rare Tabatha ever stopped in the city like this to look at a sunset. It was really beautiful to say the least.
“The sunset that you are looking at was created masterfully by the hands of God. There is no man or woman on this earth that can ever create anything that comes close to the art that God creates. He created the flowers that Monet painted. Artists like Van Gogh, Picasso and Dali could never reproduce the awe that God creates daily. For Pollock to throw some paint on a board and let it drip is interesting. To call it ‘Cathedral’ and sell it for millions is a rip off. Look there.” He pointed down the street.
At the end of Broadway is a large church called St. Joseph’s. It was an amazing work of architecture and engineering. Tabatha remembered studying it in her first year of college. It took over eighty years to build.
“If you want to experience something real by the only true artist, go inside that cathedral.” With that last statement, the stranger was gone.
Tabatha looked around for him but he was nowhere to be seen so she started in the direction of St. Joseph’s. She wondered what she would find when she entered its doors. It was a few minutes later as she was on her knees at the first pew that it hit her. She looked up into the stained glass window with the sun coming in from behind and cried. There in the window was a beautiful depiction of Christ on the cross. His blood dripped down his legs. She knew it was for her and worth more than millions.
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