Picture ,Pallette ,Blue and Grey

I spent the entire day today painting .
Two canvases , Paint , Brushes and 24 hours to spare .
One Van Gogh and One Dominguez .

..As I dabbed my way through another starry night ..I wondered ..given a choice to be in the painting ..where would I be ..would I be in the room with Vincent himself ..watching the sky explode into blues and yellows ..or would I be in the church with the tall grey steeples ..would there be bells tolling as the skies lit up in a starry kaliedoscope ..or would I be at the base of the tall brown cypress thankful for being on terra ferma in a midst of a celestial shower ..or maybe I would be on the purple hills ..strolling in silence thankful for the kind skies ..
But in all odds if the cards are dealt as they have always been for me .. I would be in one of the dimly lit houses ..on a night much like this one ..writing something ..trying once again to capture the essence of the weighted moment.

And so I end my day with this thought ..I live in the real world most of the time and look at life in the eye ..but does that make things any less painful to deal with ? ..would I rather believe things for the sake of beleiving them sometimes even if it meant an existence far less extraordinary and devoid of the madness that my current one has ..
Would I ?

..and if I did that ..would the starry night be just another painting for me ..than a part of my life that I cling to with reckless abandon when anything chaotic comes along ..like a castaway tugging onto that last oar ..because it represents one mans rise above the mediocre and menial in a time far darker and challenging than mine and his vision of beauty from the eyes of his mind when all he could see was murky.

I guess I would not trade that for all the sanity in the world.

George Bernard Shaw once said that without art the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable.

Lets keep it real for now.