Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1910-01-05
UNCONSCIOUS GOOD,
BY F. A. mitchell,

was an artist struggling for recog-
milton. I had painted picture after
picture in the hope of winning reputa-
tion and had failed A friend said to
me, "Paint something from the heart"
resolved to take his advice Months
passed while was trying to find sub
ject. Then l decided to attempt to
paint the face Of good woman She
might be beautiful. but she must be
good. Then I hunted long while for
model. found none. There were
comely models and there were models
who were good, but the good was not
stamped upon the features to degree
required. At last l gave up trying to
find a model except for the purely
physical part of the picture. selected
one who would do very we'll in this re-
spect and put her face on the canvas.
Then paid her and sent her away.
My work now commenced. / should
not call it work. for creation is not
work. If it is work it is worthless.
And yet what l did was work. This
I know. because it was worthless. l
painted over my canvas till the paint
was too thick to take on more. then
transferred the face to another and
recommended. Three months passed.
had made several such transfers. and
every canvas had become a daub.
Finally l transferred the face once
more and, before beginning to put on
what I was attempting, decided to
| take a rest
soon began to think that my rest
so far as that especial picture was
concerned would never end. 1t seemed
to me that to produce face typical Of
the good without a model must neces-
sarily be failure.
One day saw girl in a trolley
car: She sat directly opposite me.
! What man is there who has not seen
some woman for the first time and
said to himself. ''That's the woman l
wish for my wife, This | said to
myself. sat for long while looking
at the face. and when the girl at last
got out Of the car it was indelibly fixed
in my memory.
I went to my studio and put it on
canvas. Before l arose from my seat
at the easel my object was accom-.
plished-that is. the expression l de.
sired to produce was there.
When my picture was finished l
submitted it to several critical people.
They all pointed out its faults. but if
what had so coveted was there none
of them discovered it. However. l
had sufficient influence to secure a
place for my production in a promi.
nent gallery. 1t was hung near IA
nous picture. l watched the throngs
pass mine seeking for it's great rival.
"Where is it?'' they all asked referring
to the latter. ''There!" They approach.
ed it reverently and stood gazing on
it admiringly.
If this picture is so great why do
these people need to have it pointed
out to them?' l asked.
But there may have been envy in my
heart. >'5~
Occasionally one would pause before
my picture. but not for long, and |
soon gave up hope that it would Sc.
cure me recognition.
While it was hanging in it's place
l was a frequent visitor to the gal.
lery. I loved to look at it. Was this
because it pictured the face that had
attracted me or because l believed in
my heart that after all this neglect |
had achieved in it an expression of
the good? | did not know.
One day while l was in the room
where it was hanging who should en-
ter but the girl had seen in the troll.
ley. Like the others. she asked that
the Famous picture be pointed out to
her. spent some time before it, then
glanced at others till her eye lighted
on my production. At once she went
to It and stood looking at it intently.
When she had spent long while thus
l approached. took position beside her
and looked up at it myself.
pardon me-" said to her. Can YOU
tell me who painted this picture?"
mo. l know nothing about art or
artists
DO you admire it?''
II don't know. would love to he
like it,
ut seems to me-" l said. looking
from the face on the canvas to hers
OF flesh and blood. that it is like you.'
do you think so?'' she said. 1T
seemed to me that there is something
In the shape, the features aud all that
resembling me. but there is something
else would wish were mine and is
not"
And that is?'
Il can't tell you. 1t seems to me such
a look as should be in pictures of the
mother of God.''
A flood of light. of comfort, poured
IN upon my brain. Possessing the Gift
l had transferred from her to the can.
vas. she recognized it at once, but not
In herself-only in the picture,
mat was long while ago. Several
years passed. during which my produc.
ton. so far as could discover. attract.
ed little or no attention. Then here
and there would see notice. news.
paper item. that people We're begin.
ming to observe it. Then it began to
be spoken of as favorite. Now it is
pointed out as work of art.
Why is this? don't know. / have
a theory. but do not place much conf.
dence in it. 1t is this: Like assimilates
like. The musician recognizes music;
poetic nature recognizes poetry. The
pure see purity-not in themselves. in