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Is It Ever Possible to Paint a Totally Satisfying Painting

Is It Ever Possible to Paint a Totally Satisfying Painting

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Published by: akasha15 on Oct 20, 2008
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 Is it ever possible to paint a totally satisfying painting?Osho - The Book of Wisdom, Discourse 20 WHILE PAINTING, EACH MOMENT can be totally satisfying. But once the painting iscomplete it can never be totally satisfying, because if it is totally satisfying the painter will have to commit suicide. There will be no need to live any more.That's why I say life is longing, pure longing -- longing to attain higher and higher peaks,longing to go deeper and deeper into existence. But each moment can be utterlysatisfying; that difference has to be remembered. When you are painting, each brush,each color that you throw on the canvas, each moment of it, is totally satisfying. There isnothing more to it. You are utterly lost, possessed, if you are a creator.If you are only a technician then it is not so. The technician is not lost while he is painting, he is separate from his painting. He is just using his knowledge. He knows howto paint, that's all. There is nothing in his heart to paint -- no vision, no poetry, no song.He has nothing to create, but just the technology. He is a technician, not an artist. He can paint -- but while painting it is not meditation for him, it is not a love affair for him. He isdoing it; he is a doer, separate. But the creator is not separate while he is creating, he isone with it. He is utterly lost, he has forgotten himself.That's why when painters are painting they forget about food, forget about thirst, forgetabout sleep. They forget about the body so much that they can go on painting for eighteenhours without feeling at all tired. Each moment is absolutely satisfying.But once the painting is complete, a great sadness descends on the real painter. Thesedifferences have to be remembered. When the painting is complete, the technician feelsvery happy: a good job done, finished. He is feeling tired; it was a long tiring process, nocontentment on the way. He was just waiting for the result, he was result-oriented. Hewanted to finish it somehow, and now it is finished. He takes a deep sigh of relief. He ishappy, not while he is painting but only when the painting is complete.Just the opposite happens to the creator. He is happy while he is painting; once the painting is complete, a great sadness descends on him. "So it is over? That peak, thatclimax, that orgasmic experience is over? That thrill, that adventure, that going into theunknown is over?" ... just as lovers feel sad after a deep orgasm: a subtle sadness, beautiful in itself, of tremendous value -- far more valuable than the happiness of thetechnician, because out of this sadness another painting will arise, out of this sadnessanother longing to soar high, another aspiration to reach beyond, another search, another inquiry, another pregnancy. The painter will be pregnant soon, will feel full, so full thathe will have to share it again.
It is said that when Gibbon, the great historian, finished his great work about worldhistory.... Thirty-three years it took to finish it, and he was so tremendously happy for those thirty-three years that it is said that he didn't age. He remained exactly the same, asif time never passed, as if time has stopped.But the day it was finished he started crying. His wife could not believe it. She said, "Youare crying? You should be happy, you should dance! The work is complete."Gibbon said, "The work is complete. Now what is left for me? My life is complete." Andwithin five years he aged so much, and by the seventh year he was gone.IT IS SAID that Vincent van Gogh, the great Dutch painter, committed suicide when hefelt that he had done the perfect painting. It is possible. If the painter feels the perfect hashappened, then there is no point in living. The creator lives to create. The singer lives tosing, the dancer lives to dance, the lover lives to love, the tree lives to bloom -- if it has bloomed and the perfect flowers have come, then what is the point of prolonging a futile,meaningless existence?Your question is significant. You ask: "Is it possible to paint a totally satisfying painting?"Yes and no. Yes, while you are painting it will be totally satisfying. And no, once it isover you will feel great sadness. But that sadness is also creative, because it is only out of that sadness you will again start moving towards the sunlit peaks.And in this life nothing really is ever perfect or can ever be perfect.You will be surprised that I believe in an imperfect God. You will be shocked, because atleast all the religions are agreed on one thing, that God is perfect. I don't agree, because if God is perfect then Friedrich Nietzsche is right that God is dead. God is perfectlyimperfect -- that much I can say. Hence there is growth, evolution; hence there ismovement. It is always, always coming closer and closer to perfection, but it is never  perfect and it will never be perfect. Nothing ever is perfect. In fact imperfection has a beauty of its own, becauseimperfection has a life. Whenever something is perfect -- just think, contemplate --whenever something is really perfect, life will disappear from it.Life can exist only if something is still imperfect and has to be perfected. Life is the effortto perfect the imperfect. Life is the ambition to make the ugly beautiful. Something of imperfection is a must for life to exist, for life to go on growing and flowing. Nothing ever is perfect. Or if something any time happens to be perfect, in the East wehave a right vision of it. We say whenever a person becomes perfect, that is his last life.The scriptures give different reasons for it; my reason is totally different. I say yes, whenBuddha is perfect he will not come back, because perfection means life is no more possible. He will disappear into the cosmos.
RABINDRANATH, a great Indian poet and mystic, prayed his last prayer to God: "Sendme back. Remember, I am not perfect. Send me back. Your world was too beautiful andyou gave me such a precious life. And I don't want to disappear yet: I have yet to singmany songs, I have yet to paint many paintings, there is yet much in my heart whichneeds to bloom. Send me back, I am not perfect! Send me back."That was his last prayer; he died praying this way. It is one of the most beautiful prayersand one of the most beautiful ways to die. How can one thank God more than this? "Your world was beautiful, I loved your world; I was not worthy of it but you made me. I amnot worthy to be sent back, but still, your compassion is great. At least one time more,send me back."LIFE KEEPS GROWING. Nothing ever is perfect -- or whenever something is perfect itdisappears, it goes into annihilation. The Buddhist word is nirvana. Nirvana meansannihilation, nirvana means cessation. Literally, nirvana means "blowing out the candle."Just as you blow out a candle and suddenly the light is gone, gone forever, hasdisappeared into nothingness -- that is nirvana. All the buddhas say whosoever becomes perfect moves into nirvana, goes into annihilation.Don't hanker for a perfect painting, otherwise the painter will die. And you have yet tosing many songs.And the painting cannot be perfect, the song and the dance cannot be perfect, for a fewmore reasons. One: when you visualize it in the deepest core of your heart, it is a totallydifferent thing. When you start painting it, you are translating it from the subtle to thegross. In that very transforming, in that very translation, much is lost.Hence no painter ever feels satisfied when he finishes his painting. It is not the same asthat which he wanted to paint -- similar, but not the same. He has some vision tocompare, it has fallen very short. Hence he starts another painting.RABINDRANATH again has to be remembered. He wrote six thousand songs -- seems to be the greatest poet the world has ever known -- and each song is a beauty. But when hewas dying he was crying, he was saying to God, "The song that I wanted to sing, I havenot sung yet."An old friend was by the side of the bed, and the old friend said, "What are you saying?Have you gone mad? You have sung six thousand songs. In Europe, Shelley is thought to be one of the greatest poets. He has sung only two thousand songs. You have defeatedhim three times. You should be happy and contented!"Rabindranath opened his tear-filled eyes and he said, "I am not. Yes, six thousand songs Ihave sung, but you don't know the inner story. The inner story is, I wanted to sing onlyone song! But because it never was possible.... I tried once, failed; I tried again, I failed.

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