The Eye of an Artist

"I'd like to paint that," Rey says while studying a book on pigeons.




As he leaves the room I look at the cover.

At first glance I only see a bird. I've never been fond of birds. To me they represent disease and filth. But I try a new, unfamiliar approach.
I challenge myself to look deeper. Allow my eyes to see what Rey has seen. He has seen beauty, something so profound, that he wishes to express it in paint on one of his beloved canvases.

For this reason alone, there must be value in this bird pictured before me.

I pick up the book.
I set it down and really look, struggle to find my inner artist vision.

I first notice the pigeon is an extraordinary looking pigeon. Not the typical grey, park-beggars I see on a daily basis and avoid just as often. No, he is different almost regal.
His eyes are fiercely yellow and vengeance is easily depicted. His beck is adored with a egg-white, billowy flesh and the end is razor sharp ready to strike. The thin snow-white feathers of his head lay flat and appear almost silky. The feathers on his body fold onto themselves like a mink coat exposing the thin like hairs of his individual feathers.
The soft greys and creams of his feathers lend him direct vigilance, aggression and power. Yet the weigh in his eyes, and the depth in his breast, express an underlining solicitude. I get the sense of a loving individual, mastering his environment,caring for his children; all against the wisdom and struggles of the world he lives.

I pull myself away.

As Rey walks back into the room. I feel we've shared a secret moment. I do not dare tell him. I would never try to compare his bountiful vision with my meager attempt.

I set the book down in awe.

I feel eager to indeed watch Rey work this bird into one of his pieces. And I'm sure NOW you do to.




Rey's vision to me is pure and profound; a wonder.

The way he can dissect beauty from the most mundane things. He can submerge his mind into a space where only the single layers of powdery grace exist.

It takes an open mind to see the wonder and blunders of the world.

Artist take snapshots.

They train their minds to see in minutes rather than in bulk. When you break it down like an artist, the strangest objects obtain festivity and elegance.

And for a fleeting moment the elegance he saw belonged to that of a simple pigeon.

Try this simple exercise.

Walk into a familiar and comfortable room in your home. Close your eyes. Count to ten, allow your eyes to fully go blank. Then open them really quick.

The first thing your eyes land on take a moment to appreciate.

Study the color, texture, and shape. Then go beyond. Push your mind to experience what you are looking at. Imagine the object to have feelings. Sit with the thoughts for a while.

Let the beauty wash over you and then you too will understand the eye of an artist.