The Play of Light

A friend of a shy painter entered her room and took a small amber-colored jar out of his pocket. He opened it in front of the painter who sat hesitantly by the window looking at the record of flowers she'd painted in Amaryllis, a nice piece.

Without words he poured some of the contents of the jar--less than a megabyte--onto the table near where she sat.

"Here, Carole," he said, "I know how you're feeling, abstract thoughts and all. It's rough, I know. Take two of these pixels every hour. Soon you'll feel more courageous. Each pixel is a measure of 100 kilobytes of web. When you've gone through all of them--I think you'll need most of these--then I expect you'll be able to show us the large abstract of which you wrote--you know, the one you referred to? Maybe even all of that abstract side of you. I've got to go now. Virtual travel doesn't take long, but it's dragging, you know, like a cursor? Glad you're enjoying your sabbatical. Be sure to take these. I know they will help."

He nodded authoritatively, to assure her like a true colleague of the arts then walked toward the screen doorway. But just as he was about to exit, he turned and added, "Oh and a, Carole?"

She looked up through apprehensive eyes somewhat surprised and replied, "Oui?"

"It's just that, well, I hope you get by this condition soon...you know....this hesitation thing? Because all of us, the group I mean, need you. I know I do. I think we need you to be every aspect of the artist you are already showing yourself to be, without any hesitation. So please...take two pixels every hour. They're not bitter. Drink them down with a cup of Chai, or better yet a Yerba Mate. I prefer the Yerba Mate. It's very high in antioxidants, you know, especially the wild variety that comes from a company called Aviva. No, seriously, Aviva. Just write to me and I'll tell you more about it. Both will lift you up, but the Yerba Mate will sustain you through long hours--guaranteed! Have a good day, bonne journee."

With a slight nod of his head, he left through the screen from whence he'd come.

###