There was an artist who drew beautiful real-life portraits. People he thought of, dreamed of, created. They were all different showing various personalities. He labeled them with human names. He was very fond of all his portraits, thinking them as people he may have seen on the street that day.
One night, the portraits came to life. They all exclaimed how wonderful it was to live, to talk, to breathe, to think.
The next several nights they sat around discussing the joys in life and decided to leave a note for the artist telling him how wonderful his job was and how well he did it.
The next morning, the artist saw the note and was pleased the portraits loved who they were.
He continued making different people of different shapes and sizes. He continued naming them as their personality arose with every stroke of his brush. While he slept, he dreamed of the next portrait he would draw and name. Then that morning he would painstakingly paint the face getting every aspect of his dream right. It would always take a day but every portrait was finished with the utmost care, love and perfection. The artist loved his work and the portraits he created.
One morning he saw a note. It said,
"Thank you for creating me.
However, could you redo my mouth?
I think it is a little too small. And since your
palette would be wet, would you mind
touching up my eyes, I would like them to
look like Sharline's.
Yours Truly,
Veronica
The artist was angry and very disappointed. Something he had created, he had dreamed about, he had thought had the perfect features for the perfect personality was telling him she wasn't good enough. He didn't do a good enough work. His dream, his creation, his complete work was flawed. He was crushed. If Veronica thought that, did Mark and the others think that too?
The artist was so angry, he took all the portraits who left notes of thanks to another studio. He went back to the old studio and burned it down.
