One of my rules of life is don't get bored, get creative.
Many years ago, there was a sculptor.
He was a true master at his craft, and he worked hard every day to provide the finest replicas, busts, and statues to the rich and noble. He was held in very high regard, and his name spread across land and oceans and many sought to acquire one of his rare sculptures.
However, even with the fame and regard and constant hard work he was subject too, he still had a dream of his own. He wanted a self portrait, one that showed him at his finest, one that truly captured who he was. It had to be unlike anything that had ever been made. But every time he tried to begin, he could not decide how he wanted to go about it.
Many years went by, and his reputation continued to grow. He had made sculptures for royalty as well as the noble and was becoming quite wealthy. But there was still that unfinished block of marble that he could not start on, his lifelong dream of a self portrait. It was there in the back of his shop to witness his sculptures grow more and more intricate, but the marble itself remained untouched.
More years went by and the sculptor was now quite old. One day, he announced that he would be no longer making sculptures for the public. He closed his doors forever. This came as a huge shock to everyone, and they could only wonder why the great sculptor stopped working on what he did best.
The sculptor knew. He wanted to dedicate the rest of his life to this self portrait. After all these years of waiting, he finally picked up the chisel and began. He poured his soul into the project over the next years, and it was physically and emotionally draining. But still he worked, from dawn to dusk, to achieve his goal. And the day came. The last bit of polishing was done. The sculptor stepped back to admire his handiwork, and his breath was taken away. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, and it captured all of the things he wanted it to, and then some. It almost had a glow about it, and it was the first of its kind.
The sculptor was beside himself.
Many years ago, there was a sculptor.
He was a true master at his craft, and he worked hard every day to provide the finest replicas, busts, and statues to the rich and noble. He was held in very high regard, and his name spread across land and oceans and many sought to acquire one of his rare sculptures.
However, even with the fame and regard and constant hard work he was subject too, he still had a dream of his own. He wanted a self portrait, one that showed him at his finest, one that truly captured who he was. It had to be unlike anything that had ever been made. But every time he tried to begin, he could not decide how he wanted to go about it.
Many years went by, and his reputation continued to grow. He had made sculptures for royalty as well as the noble and was becoming quite wealthy. But there was still that unfinished block of marble that he could not start on, his lifelong dream of a self portrait. It was there in the back of his shop to witness his sculptures grow more and more intricate, but the marble itself remained untouched.
More years went by and the sculptor was now quite old. One day, he announced that he would be no longer making sculptures for the public. He closed his doors forever. This came as a huge shock to everyone, and they could only wonder why the great sculptor stopped working on what he did best.
The sculptor knew. He wanted to dedicate the rest of his life to this self portrait. After all these years of waiting, he finally picked up the chisel and began. He poured his soul into the project over the next years, and it was physically and emotionally draining. But still he worked, from dawn to dusk, to achieve his goal. And the day came. The last bit of polishing was done. The sculptor stepped back to admire his handiwork, and his breath was taken away. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, and it captured all of the things he wanted it to, and then some. It almost had a glow about it, and it was the first of its kind.
The sculptor was beside himself.
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