Patron of the Art

Liz Christensen
Salt Flats
Published in
2 min readApr 30, 2021

I stood before a block of stone, one large imposing task
And I possessed not mason’s skills nor knew not whom to ask
But I took up my rough-hewn tools and set them to the block
And chiseled ‘way midst dust and sand to craft art from the rock.

The bumpy mass and lumpy form no shape I knew before.
Impossible for me to see what sculpture was in store.
Applied myself, whole heart, with toil, persistence, sweat, and tears
To chip away the monolith o’er course of many years.

In turns I found I loved and loathed my slowly changing form
And wondered how my skill and art both stood against the norm.
I had in mind a shape and texture wanted in the end
But often felt my methods lacked to coax the rock to bend.

A master craftsman as my friend left plans I could commence,
Agreed to square accounts for sums of every last expense.
Instructions, costs to compensate what resources I lack,
Replace, renew the block of stone if deep I drove a crack.

So one would think success could now be mine just given time.
One would be right, all necessary elements aligned.
But time, though resource, obstacle it also is for me,
For day by day, I sometimes lost capacity to see.

I focused much on roughened edge, discouragement sets in.
Exhausted by relentless work, persistence so can thin.
To smooth and shape unyielding rock each day by day by day,
The art can seem a burden and the process heavy weigh.

You enter in my studio, appreciative and kind,
Give compliments, encouragement though work is unrefined,
It’s almost like you see the beauty underneath the rough,
Consider sculptor, plans, and all and deem it is enough.

Behold my awkward masterpiece not ignorant of fault,
Your vision clear and steady pushed my purpose to exalt.
Then over years, ten and again, I’ve from that matter raw
I sculpted now into the stone the virtues that you saw.

No plans but master’s, hands but mine directed sculpture’s course
But seeing art ‘fore manifest gave weary artist force.
Inspired by your charméd gaze, endorsement of the plan
You kept me going on the path that made me what I am.

The decades now of chi’s’ling stone and polishing the draft
With you ‘longside supportive, reassuring of my craft.
The sculpture underneath the stone emerging and defined
More finely tuned to master’s plan when with your love combined.

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